Happily Never After
by Stargurls
Summary: "Running away isn't the answer, Stella." When things go south in Mac and Stella's marriage, she runs to New Orleans hoping Mac will realize what he's about to lose, but when she has an accident, plans change. Will they get their happy ever after? COMPLETE
1. What Doesn't Kill Us

**Happily Never After**

**Summary: **"Running away isn't the answer, Stella." When things go south in Mac and Stella's marriage, she runs to New Orleans hoping Mac will realize what he's about to lose, but when she has an accident, plans change. Will they get their happy ever after?

**Disclaimer:** We own nothing. Nada. Null. Though we wish we did;)

You might know us separately as **babygurl0506** and **Stardust585**:) Well, we've decided to try something new and write a story together. This story;)

_WARNING__: This will be an angsty story with lots of twists and turns but there will also be Smacked fluff all through the plot and there will be_** a happy Smacked ending;)**_ Still, if you don't think you can handle some Smacked drama before they get there, then…you've been warned. We sincerely hope you'll enjoy this story and will do our best!_

Babygurl also created a beautiful **title graphic** to go with the story, you can check it out for yourselves here (remove the asterisks) or go to our profile page (there's a direct link pasted there):

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**Enjoy:)**_

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**Chapter 1 – What Doesn't Kill**** Us…**

_"I don't think I want this anymore."_

_The gold ring glinted on the counter top between the two bodies. The one time symbol of their love now mocked her of the endless cycle she'd been in; him working late, her in bed hoping he'd eventually come home. She looked up at him with tears lining her eyes and shrugged as he sighed and ran a hand over his face. It wasn't the first time she'd made her unhappiness known. She took a deep breath, "Goodbye, Mac."_

_"Stella…"_

_"No, Mac. Not this time."_

_She turned and grabbed her suitcase, her hand gripping the leather handles tightly, giving her the strength to turn and walk to the door. She dropped her house key on the table there and stepped through the door as she heard something shatter behind her. She made it to the Avalanche and put her bag on the passenger side seat as she climbed in. Her eyes lifted to the door as she started the car, her silent final goodbye to this life._

_The Avalanche slowly backed down the driveway, each inch giving her the confidence that she needed to leave. Her eyes caught his body by the door as she drove away and she released a long breath with a sad smile on her lips. She blinked as the tears slid down her cheeks and she drove out of the city and far away, needing the release._

"STELLA!"

She jolted out of the memory as a bullet whizzed past her head and she ducked lower behind the table. Blood pounded in her ears as she realized that she had let it happen at work. Flashbacks had been common for her the past 6 months but it had never happened in the field before. Her eyes darted around the warehouse at her team, watching as two of her men fired and helped protect one of the downed officers. Sweat plastered curls to her neck and forehead and she ran a hand through them as she reassessed what the situation around her was. She looked over to her right and saw three men huddled behind crates and boxes. Her eyes locked with a tall brunette and he nodded at her with a worried expression. She shook her head and screamed to him, "Status report?"

"One down."

She nodded and glanced at her guys again before pushing thoughts of New York and her past away and focusing on the task at hand. She sighed and put a fresh magazine of bullets into her Glock before catching the man's eyes again with a nod and turning to face the fire coming at them. She knew the odds were against her team; five shooters, home territory advantage, and an unknown supply of ammunition. _How did I get my team into this kind of mess? This never would've happened with..._

Shaking her head to rid her mind of thoughts of him she gritted her teeth and screwed her courage to the sticking place. _Go down fighting Stella._

She came up slightly over the table and pulled the safety on her gun. Gun powder burned her eyes as she fired over the table, expending 8 more rounds before ducking back down. She released a breath she didn't realize she'd been holding and for a split second things went calm. She forced a hand through her curls as she reloaded. She turned to continue firing but stopped as she heard one of her team scream for everyone to get down before a rush of heat and energy threw her from her position and into the brick wall behind her, then everything went black.

_XXXXXXXXXXXXX_

_"No, Mac. Not this time."_

These were the last words he'd heard from her in the last six months. They painfully ricocheted against his skull when he was at a crime scene, when he worked in his office and when he lay awake and alone in the king size mahogany bed Stella had chosen as one of the first pieces of furniture for their new home.

182 days, 4344 hours, 260640 minutes of sleeping alone, eating alone, shopping alone, _being _alone. He thought he had been lonely before but when Claire disappeared from his life, he knew it wasn't his fault. While his heart was still heavy with pain, he now realized, it wasn't at least burdened by the overbearing feeling of guilt. He had it easy then. He didn't even taste what true loneliness meant until Stella disappeared from his life. Because without her, there was no one. He wanted no one. He felt old and tired and he lost all the enthusiasm for work that always drove him and made him the best. With Stella not there to brainstorm theories, finish his sentences and lock horns with him, it wasn't the same. He didn't live anymore, he existed.

They had been too happy. Deep down Mac feared that so much happiness couldn't last. That he didn't deserve it. So subconsciously, he fell into the trap of a self-fulfilling prophecy. He began working longer hours, leaving Stella for longer on her own, finally he withdrew. He wanted to spare them both a painful landing from cloud number nine all the way down to the ground that had to come one day so he began toning it all down. He didn't expect it to go this far, though. He just wanted to preserve their happiness and instead, he lost it. He lost her.

Mac knew she was in New Orleans, and nothing less but heading the CSI team there. She didn't make a mystery out of it. When he learned about it, not without calling in some old favours, he couldn't help but be proud of her. Her own team. She was now calling the shots and making all the decisions, finally being able to taste the professional pride he felt every day. She deserved this. _She could have never achieved any of this if she had stayed in New York with me_, he realized with sorrow that quickly dampened his mood again.

In the months that followed this news, he lost count of how many times he had reached for the phone but never gone through with actually calling. _She _had left _him_ and she didn't even bother to let him know what was going on with her all that time. Probably because she didn't care anymore, right? She had said as much that day. So why should he make the first move and risk getting hurt again if she didn't care enough to _call_ him? He sighed knowing that's not how it was. However hard he tried to pin the blame for all that's happened on her, he knew he was as guilty, if not more. Still, he couldn't just call her. Damn his stupid pride. Damn his insecurity.

And then today, she called him. Or so he thought seeing her name on his phone's screen. He couldn't answer quick enough but his face fell when he heard a male voice on the other end informing him that Stella got badly wounded in an explosion during a shootout and…

After that, he heard no more. He slammed the phone onto its holder, ran out of the office and got on the next thing smoking.

Even though it was only a three-hour flight, it seemed to be passing with a speed that would make any glacier look like Usain Bolt in comparison. Every minute was pure torture, his mind flashing him images of Stella's bloodless face, her immobile body lying under a heap on debris or on an operating table in the hospital. She got hurt and he wasn't there. He promised he would protect her and he failed. His hand wandered to his shirt pocket, the one over his heart, and touched the small circular shape deposited in it, like it always was ever since she left.

"_Ladies and gentlemen, we will be touching down at the Louis Armstrong New Orleans International Airport in fifteen minutes,"_ came the pilot's announcement from the speaker, breaking Mac's train of thought. _"Please return to your seats and fasten your seatbelts."_

Mac looked through the window down at The City That Care Forgot, bitterly making a mental note of how ironic the nickname sounded in the circumstances. All his cares focused down there and he doubted they would be forgotten any time soon.

As the plane circled above New Orleans preparing to approach the airport, he watched the murky waters of Mississippi glisten in the last dying rays of sun, which seemed somehow redder here in the South. It looked beautiful and mysterious and a year ago, Mac would have taken notice and taken comfort in that beauty of nature. Now he looked away, his heart heavy and his mind in turmoil.

_XXXXXXXXXXXXXX_

Her eyes fluttered open as the pain reverberated through her skull over and over. She groaned and looked around seeing a man sitting on the edge of her bed and sighed softly, "Hey."

"You're awake."

Her eyes fixated on the man and she studied him for a moment before recognizing that he wasn't who she thought he was. He wasn't Mac. The man smiled and turned to her, "You know, you had the entire lab scared. Thought we were going to be looking for a new lab supervisor...again."

She smiled and nodded slightly, "Go big or go home right?"

She sighed and released a long breath, "What happened?"

"Stray bullet hit a tank of propane. Kaboom." She chuckled and gasped at the pain.

"You got really banged up, Stell. Concussion, broken rib, sprained muscles. We're lucky you survived."

She let her eyes glide shut as his hand caressed her cheek and she smiled slightly, "I'm fine, Nate, really. Been through a lot worse. Relax."

She eyed his drooped posture and tired eyes, "When's the last time you ate?"

He shrugged and glanced at his watch before looking at her with a small smirk, "Couldn't eat. Too worried."

"Nate you need to go get some food and rest. I am fine." She smiled as he traced her cheek again. "Stell, I didn't know who to call. You had a Mac Taylor listed as your contact and..."

Her blood ran cold at his name and she sighed softly as her eyes shut in silent hope, "You didn't call Mac."

_XXXXXXXXXXXXX_

As he walked through the maze of hospital corridors to where the nurse on call had directed him, he felt his skin prickle all over with anticipation. The way to Stella's room seemed to stretch out endlessly, as if teasing him, putting him to the test and checking if his resolve wouldn't melt. Corridor after corridor, turn after turn, he felt like Theseus only his Ariadne wasn't there to help him. She needed help herself. And he wouldn't let her down.

And then he was there.

Seeing her again was everything he thought it would be and nothing like it. She seemed the same Stella and somehow she was different. Her hair was shorter. Her moves were more confident than he had ever seen before. Her eyes shone with a new hardness that only came with being in charge and responsible for the lives of so many others. And she was even more beautiful than he remembered. Involuntarily, his heart skipped an excited beat when he saw her smiling profile and he felt a wave of love and tenderness he thought was no longer there wash over him. He knew he still loved her and would never be over her but he didn't expect his feelings for her to be so intense. He took a deep breath to calm himself down and was about to go in when he saw that there was someone else in the room, sitting beside Stella's bed and out of Mac's sight. Until now when he got up and stood over her. Yes, it was a _he_. Mac froze. He watched transfixed as the man bent over Stella and touched a hand to her cheek, concern and tenderness in his expression.

_I'm supposed to be standing there. I'm supposed to be the one to comfort and touch her like that_, a part of his brain offered angrily. _No, you're not anymore_, another part of his brain viciously interrupted.

_Enough_. If he let those thoughts any further in, he'd simply turn away and walk out of her life for good. And in his heart of hearts, he didn't want that.

He went in trying to look more confident than he felt. He cleared his throat and the man snatched his hand away from Stella's cheek. They both looked at him.

Mac saw Stella was flustered and as she looked at him, her eyes flashed with frustration mixed with intensity but there was something deeper behind her eyes he couldn't put a finger on. He didn't have any more time to figure it out anyway as Stella's companion came to stand protectively between him and Stella's bed, effectively shielding her from him. _From him_. Mac felt his irritation increase further. He ground his teeth.

"Sorry, who are you?" the man said in a wary voice, his hand hovering near his side where Mac supposed he kept a gun under his jacket.

"The man who's going to kick your ass if you don't move away this instant," he said in a tone that indicated he was simmering inside and just barely keeping himself in check.

"Detective Mac Taylor from the NY Crime Lab, Nate," Stella spoke from her bed in a tired voice. "The one _you called_, remember?" she added acrimoniously.

Nate pretended he didn't hear the barb in her voice and extended a hand to Mac with a wide smile. For a moment Mac considered breaking it but decided injuring Stella's team members before he even said 'hi' to her would hardly ingratiate him to her. Which didn't mean he wouldn't consider the said course of action later.

"Detective Taylor, I'm so sorry, I had no idea you'd get here so fast," Nate said apologetically. He seemed to mean it, too. "It's an honour to meet you, sir," he added eagerly. "You're a CSI legend, sir."

Mac concluded that maybe he would forego limb-breaking after all. For now.

He took Nate's hand and shook it lightly. He had a firm, strong grip.

"Thanks, I guess," Mac managed although it came out a bit strained. "Could you leave us alone? I'd like to talk to Stella."

"Um…yeah, sure," he nodded, a bit taken aback. He threw a concerned look back to Stella, and after being granted with a small smile and nod, left quickly.

Mac watched him leave and then closed the door. He turned back to his wife.

"You didn't have to act like that to him." Her green eyes met his blue ones with a newly found edge and she took a deep breath, "He didn't do anything to deserve that and you know it. He didn't know who you were," She shifted slightly and winced at the pain for a moment.

Bad enough that she was in pain and beaten up, but having him here only enhanced the pain. If she had to be honest, she wasn't even thinking of moving on; she couldn't. Mac still held her heart, and as much as she hated to admit it, she still wanted him to be in her life. This move was meant to help them, to make him realize what he would be losing, but 6 months had come and gone and he hadn't even tried to win her back. She would never admit it to anyone but deep down, the emptiness that had been brewing during their marriage only got worse as the months away from him stretched on. Seeing him, and how big a toll this had taken on him, she couldn't help but feel at fault. She'd done this to him; the aging, the pain – all of it had been at her hand, and she hated herself for putting the man she loved through it. But it needed to be done, he needed to know that she deserved better than being ignored at home while he worked hour after hour.

She turned off her thoughts and glanced up at him, wanting to apologize and open her arms to him. And then she heard it.

"He didn't _know_?" he asked. There was a sharp note in his voice, half incredulity, half something else. "And whose fault is that?"

"Oh, yeah. It's my fault you acted like a jerk to a completely innocent guy!"

"A guy that you seem to care a lot about," he said, his jaw set. "I saw you with him from the corridor. He looks like more than just some _innocent guy_," he couldn't stop the jealousy that seemed to be eating away at him ever since his eyes fell on Nate.

"That's none of your business…" she began, sounding as tense and fragile as an overtightened violin string. She became visibly paler but seemed determined to hold her ground, her eyes flashing when she looked at him.

"Like hell it is!" he raised his voice, cutting her off. He saw her become paler still and he took a breath to calm himself down. "I'm sorry. But I'm still your husband, Stella," he added softly.

"Are you really?" she asked crossing her hands over her chest. He could now see the angry cuts and bruises on her forearms she'd sustained in the explosion and his heart tightened as if the wounds were his own. "Maybe on paper, Mac."

Her words cut like a knife.

"Paper or not, that's the fact," he enunciated. "If you want to start a new life with _whatshisname_ there, why didn't you file for divorce? It would have been simpler, cleaner. More honest. To me, you. And him," he added, furious anger taking the best of him at the very thought. He left out that he would have never signed those papers in the first place.

Her eyes hardened as she listened to him. He seemed so convinced that she was in a relationship with Nate. "Hey, what has or has not transpired between me and Nate is none of your concern."

Her fists clenched as she looked back at him, "Why are you even here, Mac? Are you here to try and guilt me into coming back? To ask for divorce? Or to let off some steam at my expense? Surely you're precious lab in New York must be burning down without you there; why even bother coming to check on me. It's not like you ever cared before."

"Stella, that's not fair…"

"Not fair? What you did to me is not fair, Mac! But you seem perfectly all right with that and how it all turned out."

"You seem to be totally all right without me as well!" he said angrily. "I see you've moved on pretty fast with whatshisface!"

She swallowed hard and stared at her hands, "His _name_ is _Nate_. He's a talented CSI and my second in command here, Mac. He saved my life today when _you weren't there_."

Mac swallowed hard. She had hit bull's eye and struck straight at his deepest-running layer of regret and guilt. "I see he seems to be doing a lot of things in my place for you," he said acrimoniously, attack being the only line of defense his tormented and battered mind seemed to be feeding him.

She looked up at him with clarity reflecting in her green eyes and tears lining her lower lid, "He doesn't _know_ about you; about _any_ of it. I want it that way. I _NEED_ it that way, Mac. I can't keep having you around me when I know there's no 'happy ever after' that's going to come from it. There's nothing left there. I gave you everything I had and it wasn't enough and damn it, I cannot keep giving."

Her eyes diverted for a moment as she lowered her voice and gathered herself together before looking back at him with renewed vigor as she spoke in a soft but firm, deliberate tone, "Go home, Mac. Go home and work. That's all you ever cared to do anyway."

She turned her head as a tear slid down her cheek and she wiped it away angrily. He didn't deserve to see her cry. He didn't deserve to know how torn up she was that he had stopped caring and that things had crumbled between them. If he had wanted her so bad, he wouldn't have let the marriage dissolve to the state it was in.

There was such finality in her voice and such confidence in her words that he found himself empty, all his weapons knocked out of his hands by her soft, emotionless tone and sound reasoning. She had obviously given this a lot of thought…and maybe she was right? Maybe there was nothing left? But how could it be so if he still felt so strong about her, his heart pining for her even now, after all that had been said and done. But how could he convince her of that? How could he prove to her that he had never stopped caring about her and loving her? And did she even want that anymore? A life with him? He couldn't guarantee her the happy ending she wanted, no one could. He saw he wasn't what she was looking for anymore. And with that knowledge, could he really barge back into her life, a new life that she had so painstakingly rebuilt? He realized he couldn't do that to her. He had hurt her enough.

She didn't deserve a man so scarred and damaged like him and she didn't deserve to be burdened by the knowledge that the said man still loved her. What good would it do now, even if he told her he loved her and wanted her to come back? It would only open up the barely healed wounds and cause more pain to them both. She was better off without him.

"Stella…" he tried but she raised her hand to silence him.

She licked her lips and gave a small shake of her head. She'd never let him in this way ever again. "Please Mac, I am not in the mood. Just go."

As he studied her carefully, thinking it would be the last time, the detective in him slowly resurface and a new thought struck him. Was she really happy or was that just a mask she pasted on for him? Her eyes gleamed with a stormy green light but underneath her glare there was a dark abyss he hadn't noticed before. Her features were constantly taut and her body language and movements betrayed how stressed out and on edge she really was.

The woman he loved wasn't happy. He doubted he could be the man to make her happy again but he could still be there for her. He remembered that back before all this happened, a long long time ago, they also used to be best friends. They were such a close-knit tandem that people would mistake them for an old marriage long before they actually tied the knot. If he couldn't be her love, he would settle for being her friend again. It was better than being deprived of her in his life completely. Death would be better than that. So he would try.

"Fine," he only said, making a mental note to cancel his flight back to New York and call Danny to take charge of the lab for the time being.

She looked up into his tormented blue eyes and knew that this battle wasn't over yet. She settled in for what was sure to be one hell of a fight and prepared herself for the turmoil to come.

Mac turned on his feet and walked out with a small nod. The battle wasn't over yet and the Marines were always the last to leave the battlefield. And they were the ones left standing.

tbc.

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**Thanks for reading, we hope you liked this and lots more to come! We'd love to hear back from you and know what you think! Also, if you haven't, we'd really like if you checked out our separate stories, too:) **_babygurl&Stardust_


	2. Makes Us Stronger

**Happily Never After**

**Summary:** "Running away isn't the answer, Stella." When things go south in Mac and Stella's marriage, she runs to New Orleans hoping Mac will realize what he's about to lose, but when she has an accident, plans change. Will they get their happy ever after?

**Disclaimer:** We own nothing. Nada. Null. Though we wish we did;)

**A/N:** We wanted to thank you for all the reviews, alerts and faves! And above all for giving this story a chance:) It means a lot to us and makes us work faster;)

We know the first chapter might have been a lot to take in but everything will go smoother from now on for our couple, and as promised there will be a happy ending!

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**Chapter 2 – …Makes us Stronger**

She laid her head back on the pillow and stared at the ceiling, counting the tiles slowly as she let her mind drift. Flashbacks of their fight echoed through her mind as the day progressed; words she said, responses from him that seared her soul, the way his eyes reflected his broken soul, the way her heart broke watching him leave again.

Tears lined her eyes as she battled the raw emotions coursing through her. Yes, he had come back and obviously still cared but was that going to make up for the distance he had put between them? Was she ready to go back and give him that second chance that she so desperately wanted him to be ready for? Thoughts and concerns raced through her mind as she laid there, just counting the tiles over and over and over again.

She eyed the phone a few hours later and picked it up, staring at the numbers before dialing familiar digits. Her heartbeat raced in her ears as she heard the rings sound one after another before going to his voicemail. She muttered a Grecian curse and waited until the beep sounded, "Mac? We need to talk."

She swallowed and sniffled lightly as she reflected back on their argument. This was so atypical for them, fighting and going to jugular veins on the other. They never had fought like that before, and she was positive she never wanted to fight with him like that ever again.

She licked her lips and sighed. She wasn't always quick to acknowledge her wrongs, especially not about something like this, but it was Mac. She swallowed the final bit of her pride and took a deep breath, "I was wrong. I should've told him about you, and us."

The silence was deafening and she tried to ignore the insecurity as she continued, "Mac, a lot has changed in the last few months, but I, I shouldn't have yelled at you. It just brought up so many feelings I thought were gone and...I just… Mac, I need…"

Her fingers tangled into the cord as she allowed herself to show her vulnerability to him in a soft voice, "Mac, I need you. Please."

She set the phone onto the cradle and let the feelings she'd been keeping inside her, finally come out. As the tears she'd been holding back slid down her face and stained her pillowcase, she couldn't help but hope that he hadn't already left and taken any chance of reconciliation with him.

_XXXXXXXXXXXXXXX_

Mac left the hospital in a blind stupor, bumping into people and not really knowing or caring where he was going. He turned off his phone. He didn't want to go back to his hotel and he didn't have anywhere else to go so he just wandered aimlessly around the city, avoiding the raucous, tourist-infested areas of Bourbon Street and the French Quarter, and choosing the Central Business District just on the other side of Canal Street, which was much more peaceful and less crowded at this time of day. He wandered through Lafayette, Baronne and many other smaller streets and alleys, the exotic sounding names swimming in his mind.

It was hot and humid, even though it was already September. Born and raised in Chicago and living in NY for the last twenty years plus, Mac wasn't used to such temperatures at this time of the year. He would have to buy some clothes if he was planning on staying longer, he added another to-do item to his mental list. He had gotten on the plane here straight from the lab, taking nothing but himself with, but now that he thought about it, his clothes wouldn't have passed the test in this climate anyway.

He took his coat off and was pondering on doing the same with his suit jacket when the alley he was walking opened into a far bigger one, adorned by lush green trees and beautiful, historic mansions on both sides as far as the eye could reach. He stood motionless for a while, marveling at the beauty of the world he had stumbled into. Suddenly a vintage, red streetcar whooshed by, cheerfully ringing its bell, and reinforcing the fairy-tale illusion. Mac began to understand why Stella had chosen this particular city. It was suffused with a certain exotic, untamed energy and held a mysterious magic like nothing he had ever seen before.

Mac felt his features crease into a small smile as he saw the clumsy vehicle off with his gaze. Suddenly his dad swam before his eyes. There were no streetcars in Chicago when he grew up, the last line having been cancelled in 1958, but his father used to be a machinist with the CTA and would sometimes take Mac to see the antique cars the CTA still kept in its hangars. Mac still remembered the feeling of excitement and joy when his dad sat him on the machinist's seat and allowed him to 'drive' the car. Sometimes his mother would accompany them and they would go for ice-creams or to the carousel afterwards. A happy, loving family. Suddenly Mac felt a new pang of pain when he realized how much he would have loved to have Stella with him right now to share those memories and experience this moment with.

He shook his head, chasing the ghosts away. Feeling very tired and wrung out, he crashed at the first bar he found. It had a homely-sounding name Pete's Pub and offered a large choice of beverages, drinks and appetizers. Scenes from Mardi Gras adorned the walls and there was a steady throng of people going in and out, which meant he could easily blend in. He sat at the bar and looked at the colourful display of alcohol bottles from all over the world. He didn't normally drink, only on very special occasions. This certainly qualified as one.

Having downed two whiskeys at a pace he hadn't since the Marines, he analyzed his encounter with Stella word for word, moment for moment, looking for any signs that she might ever give him a second chance and accept him back into her life in whatever form she chose.

He knew they had both spewed off words they didn't really mean. It seemed like all the hurt and anger that had accumulated over the last six months finally found an opening and it flowed out of him in a ferocious wave when he saw her for the first time in such a long time. He regretted what he had said the moment he said it, knowing his words hurt her. Her words cut to the core, as well. The person who knows you best is the one who can hurt you the worst.

…_there's no happy ever after_

…_I gave you everything_

…_I need it that way, Mac._

Whoever said words could hurt like bullets was a moron. Bullets seemed a gentle caress in comparison. What he felt was more like a bunch of grenades had exploded into his face.

They had argued before, many times. She was the emotional one, he held everything inside. In a way, they were complete opposites and they had very different views on life so there were bound to be conflicts between them. But they also respected each other enough to always be able to find solutions for everything they ever did together.

Except the one thing that mattered. Their marriage.

Mac shook his head incredulously. How had it come to all this? They had never fought like this before. In all their arguments there was always mutual respect and a willingness to compromise, to work it all out because they cared about each other.

It hurt so much when she left that all he could do so as not to go insane with pain, was to build as much distance as he could and shell himself deeper than he had ever before. But it still hurt. It wasn't the same as with Claire. He wasn't the same man he had been then. Stella had irreversibly changed him and when he tried to go back to his old ways, he found he couldn't. The feelings wouldn't go away and his heart wouldn't be silenced. Which infuriated him even more. He was like a bear with a thorn in its paw – he fumed and thrashed and suffered in loneliness, unable to do anything about the pain himself but too proud and hurt to ask for help.

"Detective Taylor?" A familiar voice spoke his name from behind and he turned to see who it was.

Nate Labarre was standing a few feet away with an uncertain expression on his face.

"Would it be fine if I joined you?" he asked sheepishly.

Mac looked at him in thought for a moment. Sighing deeply and regretting his decision the moment he made it, he nodded.

Nate gave him a relieved smile and seated himself on the barstool next to Mac.

"First night in New Orleans and you already find one of our finest bars," he remarked in a warily friendly tone, still unsure if Mac was going to hit him or leave him be. "I see your legendary detective skills extend far beyond finding murderers."

Mac wasn't in the mood for small talk. "Did you want anything, detective Labarre?"

"Actually, it's a very fortunate coincidence we happen to like the same type of bars," he smiled. "I was hoping we could talk," he added seriously.

Mac furrowed his eyebrows but allowed him to continue. He hadn't exactly made up his mind about Nathan Labarre yet and he puzzled him. Mac rarely got puzzled, especially when it came to reading people. This time, however, he was personally involved, and it changed things. He sincerely wanted to dislike him and looked for any slightest fault or indication of foul play on Nate's part, but found none. Even the argument about him being close with Stella, although jarring, wasn't his fault.

"I know we didn't exactly start off on the right foot back at the hospital, detective Taylor," Nate went on uneasily. "-but I wondered if I could buy you a beer and apologize again. It's not Tun Tavern but still…"

"Actually, I was just leaving," Mac made to stand up, deciding he didn't feel like company right now, especially from the man who seemed to have replaced him at Stella's side. He didn't want to be rude or start a fight so he decided it was best if he left. Then the second part of Nate's utterance hit him. He hadn't heard that name in quite some time. "Tun Tavern?" he repeated referring to the legendary brewery house and birth place of the Marine Corps every Marine knew. "Are you a Marine?"

Nate shook his head. "Me? I'm nowhere near that tough," he said, respect and admiration shining through his smile. "My dad was a sergeant in 1st Battalion 9th in Vietnam. He never stops talking about it," Nate smiled with sentiment. "Once a Marine, always a Marine," he cited the famous Corps motto. "I guess it is true."

"Your father is a Walking Dead?" Mac asked with incredulity referring to the unit's nickname, famous throughout the whole Corps. They'd earned after sustaining the longest combat in the Corps' history – the 1/9 had been engaged for over 47 months and barely one in ten made it out. Mac had the honour of serving with a couple of them and they were the toughest of the tough, and had earned nothing but his highest respect.

Nate chuckled. "Haven't heard that nickname in a long time," he said. "It's a name my dad uses with pride. But how did you…" he began and stopped, realizing something. "You're a Marine yourself, aren't you?"

"1st Battalion 8th," Mac said curtly sitting himself back down.

"The Beirut Battalion," Nate whistled through his teeth with appreciation. "That explains a lot," he nodded with understanding. He had been wondering if it was just Mac Taylor or if all NY detectives came with such a tough exterior and emanated with that undercurrent of strength ready to be unleashed that he had associated with only the strongest of soldiers. Now he had his answer. This man was both and Nate was sure he one of his kind. "Were you there in 1983 when…"

"We were slaughtered in our own base?" Mac cut him off. "Yes, I was there."

"I'm really sorry, sir," Nate seemed to be really scared he had stepped on Mac's foot again and Mac had to smile despite himself. In spite of all the reservations he had against him, Nate was trying really hard. Plus, a Marine's blood ran in the boy. Maybe he deserved a chance.

"Call me Mac," he said. "No need to be sorry. They died proudly protecting their country and we made sure they were avenged."

Nate nodded his head. They remained in silence for a while.

"So how about that beer? To honour them?" Nate suggested and Mac couldn't say no.

After their beverages were delivered and they drank to the Marines, Nate looked at Mac curiously. He decided it wasn't necessarily wise to enquire further about his past, so he decided to go for something neutral, not realizing he was stepping onto a minefield.

"So…how long are you staying in NOLA?"

"A couple more days," he said uneasily. "Until I make sure Stella's fine."

"Stella…I don't think you've got much to worry about here," he chuckled. "She's one tough woman."

"You have no idea," Mac gave him a half smile, though it was more to his memories than to the young man next to him.

Nate nodded and treated that as an encouragement to go on.

"Though I have to say, she's awfully silent about New York and what she did before she came here…"

"So you wanted some gossip from me?" Mac asked, irked.

"No, it's not that." He shook his head vigorously. "She's my boss and my friend. I'd simply like to know more about her. Why she is the way she is."

Mac furrowed his eyebrows. "What do you mean?"

Nate looked at him uneasily. "She keeps to herself, goes out with us only when we break her arm into going…and whenever something personal surfaces, she clams up and sometimes, for no reason at all, she gets all glassy eyed and melancholic."

Mac felt his hands clench into angry fists, realizing in full Stella had indeed only made a brave face for his sake. She wasn't fine at all.

"I see you've been watching her pretty close," he said in a neutral tone, keeping his emotions in check, and trying to get Nate to reveal how close exactly he was with Stella and what his intentions were.

"Everyone on the team will tell you the same things," Nate shrugged and Mac was satisfied with his answer and tone. It sounded like they were friends and he cared about her but nothing more.

"We all worry about her," Nate continued, completely unaware of the constant evaluation he was under. "She's a great CSI, a good boss and a devoted friend…we hate to see her like this." He looked at his interlocutor making sure he could continue. He noticed how pale Mac had become. Nate was starting to wonder if he wasn't ill. It was obvious by the way his clothes hung loosely on his frame that Mac Taylor had lost quite some weight in a relatively short time and he looked like a man with a heavy burden on his shoulders. But he nodded so Nate went on. "Our last case before the explosion was a murder at a dog show. We got free tickets from the organizers and we all went after solving the case. We were having a good time, eating and laughing but when we started making wagers on which dog would win, Stella suddenly got up and left without a word."

Mac stared at him, though he didn't really see him. When the silence was getting strained, he cleared his throat. "We had a similar case back in NY," he explained curtly.

"It didn't end well?"

"To the contrary," Mac smiled despite his current mood, remembering their hot-dog pseudo-date so many years ago. "All went well. Any case Stella ever worked on ended in success. She's a brilliant scientist and she would work so passionately and selflessly, give everything she had until she found the connection. She's the finest CSI I've ever worked with," he added softly, speaking more to himself than to the man next to him, the realization of what he had lost hitting him again with full force.

Nate grinned, totally unaware of Mac's sudden mood change. "In the first few weeks we thought it was only for show. You know, new boss trying to impress the superiors and intimidate us and all that…but then we found out she's simply that passionate about her job. She has this deep compassion and a fierce desire to not only catch the perps but help the vics and their families, the people whose life had been shattered by crime. We all respect her for that and look up to her."

Mac gave him a half-smile, a sense of pride and satisfaction overwhelming him.

"You seem close," Nate ventured. "I mean, you're still her contact number even though you're living thousands of miles away…"

"She must have forgotten to change it," Mac snapped not liking where this was going.

"…and you've come here without a word in record time after I called…"

Mac looked at Nate with mixed feelings. The young CSI really had no idea he was Stella's husband or what had transpired between them in New York. Mac bitterly congratulated Stella on managing to keep such a good cover. He toyed with the idea of telling Nate the true nature of his relationship with Stella but then he remembered her taut features, tired frame and the dark abyss behind her eyes. _I NEED it that way, Mac_. She had suffered enough and if there was one thing he could do to show her he meant well and wanted to be her friend again, was to respect her wishes.

"We're…close friends," he managed finally, not looking the younger man in the eye.

Nate didn't seem to notice the internal struggle Mac was fighting and continued to ask about the cases they had worked on together in New York. The Taxi Killer and the Compass Killer were loud cases in the whole of USA and he wanted to know all about it. For once, Mac was glad of his company. It took his mind off of painful realizations. They soon got into details and soon Mac lost count of time.

When they said their goodbyes two hours later, Mac actually felt a little better. Comfort could come from the strangest places and in the strangest forms. Nate was a very good listener, he was bright and asked all the right questions in the right moments. He understood why Stella chose him as her second.

He hailed a cab, and as he settled himself inside, feeling a bit lighter, he took his phone from his pocket and turned it back on. He had five new messages: the cleaners, Danny, the DA's office, Flack…he scrolled through all of them making a list of things he had to take care of tomorrow morning when his fingers froze over the screen. He had scrolled to the last message.

As he listened to it, his face softened. He put down the phone and looked at it for a while in thought.

"I'd like to make a stop on the way," he told the driver.

_XXXXXXXXXXXXXX_

She woke the next morning as a nurse took her vitals. "Ah, you're awake. Someone's been waiting for you."

Stella's heart jumped slightly, hope radiating in her chest that it would be Mac. She glanced at the door with bright wide green eyes and tried not to let the disappointment show as Nate stepped into the room, "Hey."

She forced a smile onto her lips and nodded, "Hi!"

Her eyes glanced over his appearance and she sighed, "Long night?"

He nodded and chuckled, "Yeah. I met someone at a bar."

She grinned, "I don't want details."

"Yeah. You do." He nodded and pulled a chair up to the bed, "Stella, I met Mac at the bar."

She smiled a little wider, "He's still here?"

"Yeah… he's here for a couple more days."

Her heart skipped a beat knowing that he was still here. He had stayed, even after what she had said, and in that moment she realized that maybe it wasn't so ridiculous to hope that her voicemail to him could lead to a fresh start, even if it was only as friends.

"What did he say?"

"We actually talked about you, a lot. It was nice to learn a little more about you."

She felt her cheeks redden and dropped her head, "Yeah, he… he knows it all."

"I gathered that, what with the two of you being such close friends and all."

Her eyes darted up to his in a flash, "That's what he told you? Close friends?"

His eyes narrowed a bit and he nodded, "Yeah…"

She looked away and felt a fraction of her heart break away as she felt the pain of hearing Mac's brush off radiate through her. She felt Nate's hand close over hers and pulled her hand away, "Nate, I…"

_He doesn't know about you; about any of it._

Her own words echoed in her mind as she looked at Nate. Mac had done what she asked. He had played the game she wanted him to play. She bit back her smile and looked at Nate, "I didn't think he'd phrase it like that."

She shrugged and folded her hands in her lap as a nurse walked in with a large bouquet of roses in a vase. She handed Stella the card with a smile and nodded to Nate before leaving. Stella's eyes followed her and she glanced at Nate, "Did you…"

He shook his head and nodded to the card, "Need me to print it?"

She smirked and smacked his hand as he reached for it. Her fingers nimbly opened the small white envelope and pulled the card free, her eyes reading the writing and the smile on her lips finally reaching her eyes…

_"Yours, Mac."_

_XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX_

…_. Earlier that same day …._

He slept whole five hours of undisturbed sleep, something he hadn't experienced in a long time. Stella's few words had shaken him to the core and given him a new hope he hadn't allowed himself to have before.

He woke up reinvigorated and fresh. He quickly shaved, dressed and took care of all his NY responsibilities, Danny eager to help out in any way he could and sheepishly offering 'get better' wishes for Stella from the team. No one at the NY Lab knew what exactly happened between the two of them or why Stella had left. Mac preferred it this way.

It was around seven when he got to the hospital. Stella was still asleep and he didn't want to wake her up but he couldn't help himself from taking a peek into her room. The nurse looked surprised but nodded her head with a smile.

The flowers hadn't arrived yet but he hoped they would before she woke up. He stood leaning on the door frame and as he looked at her peaceful expression, a memory that was engraved deep in his heart came to the surface…

_It was late at night and he felt tiredness weigh him down like a leaden anvil someone had placed on his shoulders and refused to remove since the afternoon. Although in all honesty, there was something else entirely that lay heavy on his heart. Or rather in his pocket. Since he bought it two weeks ago, he had already developed a habit of sub-consciously reaching into his suit pocket to check that it was still there. The reassuring feel of velvet under his fingers somehow made it more true. He, Mac Taylor, had indeed made this decision. He was ready to take that step. Now all he needed to do was inform Stella of that decision. And that was the problem. There never seemed to be a proper moment. It was impossible at work, and at home, even though they had been living together for the last ten months, they were either too tired or too busy…with other things. A restaurant didn't seem right, too. It had to be really special and every time he tried in the last two weeks, something just wasn't right._

_Some would say he was chickening out or looking for an excuse but that wasn't the case. There was never a doubt in his heart or mind as to the decision he had made. He hadn't felt so sure about anything in a long time, in fact. But it had to be somehow extraordinary. Just like she was._

_"Hey." There was a knock on his glass door and he looked up to see Stella, fully dressed to leave, hovering on the threshold with uncertainty in her eyes. "Am I interrupting?"_

_He smiled at her. No matter how tired or bad he felt, she always brought a smile to his face and caused his heart to skip a beat. They had been a couple two years now and best friends for ten before that and she still made him feel like a hormonal teenager every time he set his eyes on her. "Come in. I was just finishing," he said waving her in._

_"Good." She smiled and strolled in with renewed confidence. "Because Adam warned me not to tease the beast in his den right now."_

_"Adam should put more effort into doing his job and less into showing off in front of you," he said aiming at a stern tone but failing. He could never stay angry at their computer-savvy tech for long._

_"Do I sense jealousy?" Stella teasingly raised an eyebrow at him._

_His eyes never leaving hers, he threw his pen onto his finished report review, stood up and slowly circled his desk. He came to stand just before her._

_"Me jealous? Of you?" he asked feigning indignation. Then he took her face into his hands and gently tilted her head upwards to meet her chartreuse gaze that never failed to take his breath away. "Always," he breathed and brought her lips to his._

_At one time it would have been unthinkable for him to show his emotions so freely and at his workplace but that was in another life, at another time. The time before Stella. Many would be surprised but in the matters of the heart Mac Taylor had actually begun to listen to his _heart_. He had re-learned that art thanks to her and it hadn't let him down ever since._

_When they parted, she gave him another of her megawatt smiles. "Well, Mr. Jealous, you'd better be finished with those papers now or I'm walking out of here with another man," she playfully tugged at the collar of his shirt._

_He shook his head and turned off the light on his desk. He quickly put his cloak on and followed her into the corridor, deciding with resignation that tomorrow he would make a reservation at the most expensive restaurant he could find and just do this, without any further ado or looking for 'the right moment'. He would create the right moment himself. _

_He was done waiting._

_When they got outside, Stella talked him into walking home, insisting they could both use some fresh air._

_"We need to work on your definition of 'fresh air'," Mac said wryly referring to the smoggy oxygen-like substance that usually passed off as 'air' in New York._

_Still, he followed her with a smile. He could never say no to her. They wandered into Central Park and just as they were about half-way, it began to rain. Neither of them had an umbrella and Mac was about to remark on their perfect timing when Stella let go of his hand and went out into the rain. She let the cool drops splash down on her hair, skin, clothes and welcomed it, her face pointed to the sky. She laughed and motioned for him to join her._

_It was then, watching Stella in the rain, the mellifluous sound of her laughter filling his ears and heart with warmth, that he knew. That was the moment._

_He stepped into the rain and walked towards her. She turned her face towards him and watched him make his way to her. She was an ephemeral vision to him then…water sliding down her olive skin in meandering rivulets…her eyes shining with an enticing, mysterious energy and tenderness…that radiant smile reserved only for him._

_He approached her and looked her in the eye. He saw there a future and happiness beyond his wildest dreams. He reached into his pocket and dropped to one knee, the rain proceeding to soak them both further but neither taking notice. He heard Stella let out a small gasp. Realization dawned in her eyes and she dropped to her knees with him. Drops of rain mixed with happy tears on her cheeks and when she said 'yes', he was certainly the happiest man alive..._

Suddenly he felt a light tap on his shoulder and the nurse who let him in smiled at him. "Detective Taylor? You're listed as the primary contact for Detective Bonasera here, so I think you should know she's being released today," she said. "We were hoping you'd be able to come get her around four."

Mac nodded. "I'll be here," he said curtly and left, allowing Stella to get her sleep.

_XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX_

Greek obscenities sounded softly through her room as she got dressed and slowly moved her aching muscles that were sprained. She finally finished dressing and glanced in the mirror as she stood in her hospital room bathroom. She sighed and let her eyes study the angry marks on her face from the explosion before turning the light off and opening the door.

Her green eyes immediately settled on the man standing at the window in her room with his back facing her. She smiled as she recognized the silhouette and moved quietly over to stand behind him, her body a breath away from touching his, "They called you?"

Her hands ached to reach up and touch him, caress his back and pull herself to him, but it had been what felt like an eternity since that had been a common interaction for them, so she held back. Her eyes followed each curve of his back and arms, tracing his form with what felt like new eyes. He hadn't changed much physically, though he had clearly lost weight. She finally let go of some of her restraint and put a hand on his shoulder, "I wanted it to be you here."

She gave his shoulder a gentle squeeze before giving in and letting her body hug his from behind as her head found his shoulder and she held him tenderly but tightly, not wanting to let go and find out this was yet another of the dreams she'd been having since the separation.

Mac stood motionlessly, his words failing him. The severity of how much he had missed her touch, her voice, her closeness, all that was her, hit him with the force of a sledge hammer. He had imagined her arms around him so many times that he was still afraid this was all just another figment of his cruel imagination. When he made a move to touch her in his dreams, she would always pull back and disappear with a look full of reproach and pain. The only way to be sure this really was her was…

He turned in her embrace, and he noticed she started moving away as if startled by his sudden actions. He let his arms hang along his sides, disappointment starting to claw at his chest. But then he saw something change in her eyes, and surprise was replaced by a tenderness he never thought he would have the chance to see again. He let out a breath he didn't realize he was holding and didn't hesitate any longer, catching her in his embrace.

They clung to each other as if they were clinging for dear life. She felt so good in his arms, like they had been designed especially to hold her. He buried his face in her soft locks, feeling with a twinge of guilt how fragile she seemed in his grasp.

"I need you, too," he breathed when he was sure his voice wouldn't let him down. "Like oxygen," he added moving away to an arm's length to look into her face.

He saw her eyes had filmed over, and he leaned in, her lips so close…only in the last moment he realized that that certainly wasn't what she wished for from him, and he placed a chaste kiss on her forehead, quickly moving away.

"So, you're ready to go?" he asked uneasily.

She looked up at him, a slight veil of disappointment in her eyes before she touched his cheek and ran her thumb along his cheekbone, lost in thoughts for a moment. When she finally spoke, her voice was rough with emotions, "Yeah."

Her hand slid from his face as she turned to the bed and gathered her big blue hospital bag with her belongings and the vase with the flowers from him. She turned back to him with a small shy smile and he took the bag and the vase from her. She smiled wider. Always the gentleman. Then she moved over close to him, sliding her hand into his and giving it a delicate squeeze as she walked with him from the room. Her green eyes caught his as they waited for a cab and she leaned over, resting her head on his cheek and speaking softly, "Come home with me…"

tbc.

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**A/N: We'd love to know what you think:) Leave us a review, knowing your opinion really makes our day and helps us write faster! **_Babygurl&Stardust_


	3. Been Far Away For Far Too Long

**Happily Never After**

**Summary: **"Running away isn't the answer, Stella." When things go south in Mac and Stella's marriage, she runs to New Orleans hoping Mac will realize what he's about to lose, but when she has an accident, plans change. Will they get their happy ever after?

**Disclaimer: **We own nothing. Nada. Null. Though we wish we did;)

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**Chapter 3 - …Been Far Away For Far Too Long…**

She glanced at him as the cab drove to her small apartment in the French Quarter. Her eyes traced his figure as he stared at his hands in his lap, his fingers interlocked and going white at the knuckles as he gripped them so tight. She finally looked out her window as her hand covered his in his lap, soothing his anxious movements. Her thumb rubbed the top of his hand in small circles, occasionally brushing his wedding ring. She couldn't stop the smile that tugged at the corners of her lips as his fingers interlocked with hers and held on gently.

Mac didn't even realize how hard he had been clenching his hands until he felt Stella's long, gentle fingers brush against his. He knew she had noticed the wedding ring and the sight of her hand over it gave him a strange sense of comfort. He let his fingers interlock with hers and thought he caught a small smile on her lips as he did. She didn't move her hand away through the entire ride and the warmth radiating from their joint hands made him relax slightly although he still didn't know what to do or what to expect. What he had expected was a rebuttal at the hospital, one he deserved for all the pain he'd caused her, but instead she held him close and sheepishly asked him to come with her. If she had screamed or given him a piece of her mind like she did earlier, he would have accepted it and said nothing. It was what he was waiting for but this…this he didn't know how to handle. He felt like they were walking on very thin ice, where an inch in the wrong direction could bring them both under to drown, and never break the surface again. But then her fingers would brush against his and the fears and doubts would scatter like bats in bright light. She was his light. How could he have forgotten that? He heard her let out a small sigh and noticed the cab was stopping.

The sigh that sounded from Stella's lips as they pulled in front of her apartment building was one of relief. She gave his hand a squeeze and looked at him with insecurity echoing through her eyes, "Come up?" Her green eyes searched his and she smiled gently at his nod. She nodded back and let her smile widen while holding his eyes.

Letting him pay for the cab, Stella headed towards the stairs to her second floor apartment, and waited until he was with her to go up. She hadn't let anyone over to her NOLA apartment; it had been her sanctuary. Her place to go and drown in misery as she pained over him. A part of her was anxious to show it to him, knowing it wasn't what he'd expect from her. She slowly opened the door and led him into the immaculate living space.

Everything her apartment, and their joint apartment in New York had once been, her apartment here was not. All the warmth and lived in comfortableness was void; no color, no plants, no evidence of the fact that she was the occupant of the apartment. It was cold and resembled his apartment before they had gotten serious. The atmosphere was static, and the whole space looked as if no one lived there. No pictures, none of her signature decor, nothing. Only furniture and openness.

Mac felt a painful realization claw at his heart as his eyes rested on Stella's living space – it was only that – an empty, heartless space. Nothing that could be called home or even apartment. He was never the one to take much notice of decorating or personalizing, his own NY apartment being a CSI museum mixed with an IKEA display before Stella moved in. But this…this wasn't just about the lack of décor. This was about the lack of heart to do the décor. And that, he knew, had to be because she didn't think this would be permanent. With an overbearing feeling of guilt and longing, he recalled how much heart and energy she'd put into making his apartment their home.

_"Here's the deal… I refuse to sleep in the same bed that you and," she cleared her throat and raised an eyebrow, "Slept in."_

_"Stella…"_

_"No, Mac. I hated her back then… and after what she did, I hate her even more. I am NOT sleeping in the same bed that Peyton slept in."_

_"So, what?"_

_"We're getting rid of it. I found one that is perfect for us… mahogany and big enough that we can do just about anything…" she winked and trailed her fingers up his thigh as they sat on his sofa._

_"You already bought it, didn't you?" he grinned eying her mischievous grin. Her nod and shrug were met with a soft laugh and he sighed, "When does it need to be out by?"_

_"Friday. I figure, it can move out the day I officially move in." _

_He grinned and pulled her to his chest as he laid back on the sofa, pulling her on top of him, "I love knowing that you'll be a permanent fixture here."_

_"Me too, Mac… been waiting for this a long time."_

_Her fingers entwined with his as she pressed his hands into the sofa's soft cushion and straddled him to the couch, "You know I'm going to have to bring some feminine touches to the rest of the place too, right?"_

_His brow furrowed and he looked around his apartment, "What's wrong with my decorating?"_

_"Mac, it looks like a criminal justice museum in here. Don't you want it to look like you and I live here? Like this is our home? The place that we come home to every night and sleep in?"_

_He sighed and nodded, "You're right… this needs to be a home for us. No one else could make it feel as warm as you will…"_

_She grinned and pressed her lips to his gently, "Maybe someday in the future some little person will give me competition." She winked and settled onto his chest, pressing her ear to his heart and sighing softly._

He looked at Stella now, standing so alone and fragile in this house that was no home, thousands of miles from him. How far apart they grew from that day. His heart broke remembering the plans they hadn't realized, the dreams they hadn't made happen, the chances they had lost.

Stella licked her lips as she turned to him and sighed with a shrug, "I haven't felt much like decorating…" Deep down she knew that he knew she hadn't decorated because she had hoped she wouldn't have been here long. She hoped he would've come to get her sooner. As she looked around the surrounding space, she felt the reality of the situation sink in. She had let her marriage get to the state it was in. She hadn't fought hard enough.

She shook the thought from her head and led him into the kitchen. She scratched the back of her neck and took a deep breath as she looked at him in hesitancy. What happened next? Were they supposed to just kiss and make up? Was this when she was supposed to smack him and tell him he'd been an ass for letting her get away? She opened her mouth to say something and nothing came out. She looked around for something to get the conversation going, then opened the fridge, "Do you want anything to drink? Beer, wine, something harder?"

"No. I'm good." She looked up at him and closed the fridge, leaning against it with her side and dropped her eyes. Back to square one. Silence echoed around the room for what felt like eternity as she tried to think of what to say. Things had never been awkward between them, not even on their darkest days, but this was different. She moved away from the fridge and leaned her palms on the table in her kitchen as she listened to them both breathe in and out. One always a breath ahead of the other. Her eyes focused on the grain of the wood on the modest table as she thought about how messed up everything was. Her head stayed dropped as she let her mouth open.

"You didn't come after me."

It was a barely audible whisper and she closed her eyes after saying it. She pushed herself up to her full stature and looked at him. She took a step toward him and rested her hands on his waist as she held his eyes with hers and spoke in a trembling voice, "You were supposed to come after me, Mac."

"I didn't think you wanted me to." His voice seemed calm and collected but knowing him all those years, she detected an undercurrent of deep emotion in every word.

She shook her head and took a step away from him, frustration evident in her face, "Jesus, Mac. We're married. You should've known." She reached a hand up and cupped his cheek, "When I said 'yes' to your proposal, I thought you knew me. I thought you knew how much I wanted this to work…I loved you, Mac. I still do, but…"

She shrugged and walked into her living room, her back facing him as she looked out her window over the French Quarter. As the wind blew through the trees, she took a moment to hope that the magical quality of the city they were in could help them rebuild the broken bridge that was between them right now. "But what, Stell?"

She turned to him and studied his face. She did still love him, but she wasn't sure how to go back to him. All her doubts remained about them, he had burned her. Her track prior to him hadn't been all that great, she'd be the first to admit that. She had thought he'd be different, instead he had shattered her heart worse than any of the other men; he had been the White Knight she'd dreamed of, her metaphorical Lancelot.

Instead of her hopes to have her fairy tale end, they had truly followed in the plot of Lancelot and Guinevere; unhappy, heartbroken, and wondering how something so perfect had fallen apart. She gave him a sideways frown and shrugged, "I'm tired, Mac. I'm tired of feeling like I'm the only one who wants to make this marriage work."

"And you thought running away would do it? Would make it work?" he asked, not looking her in the eye. There was no anger or reproach in his voice, just a disappointed tiredness and resignation that carried more strength and meaning than all the angry words in the world. She felt even worse.

"Mac, I didn't know what to do anymore," she shook her head, tears starting to well up in her eyes seeing how much heartbreak he was in and knowing it was of her doing.

"Running isn't always the answer, Stella," he said, his voice devoid of all emotion. There was such an overwhelming guilt and sorrow in his eyes that she had to turn her gaze away.

"I know that now," she admitted bitterly. She lifted her eyes back to him and bit her lower lip. Then she took a step towards him, her hands folded together nervously, "What would you say if I told you I was done running? Could you tell me the same? Are _you_ done running, Mac?"

His head shot up and as he looked at her, she could finally see a glint of life in his eyes. "You're the one who left, Stella."

"You're the one who didn't stop me," she shot back. "You left months before I did; except yours wasn't a physical absence."

His expression softened and he reached out his hand to her to touch her cheek, slowly and tentatively, unsure if he was allowed to. She didn't move away.

"The biggest regret of my life," he said quietly, locking his eyes with hers.

A soft knock at her door could be then heard and with greatest reluctance she pulled her eyes off from his and she turned to the door with a confused expression. None of her co-workers had ever been to her place here, or to her knowledge, even knew where she lived. She tensed slightly as she stood, "Mac, hold that thought."

She headed to the door and glanced through the peep hole, sighing in frustration and rolling her eyes as she saw it was two of her team members. She groaned slightly and opened the door, using her body to block the space between the door and the door frame, "Ashley."

The petite brunette grinned and extended a small arrangement of flowers with a balloon with writing on it telling her to 'Get Well Soon'. "The team chipped in. Took them to the hospital, heard you got discharged. Had to do a little research but finally figured out how to get them to you."

She gave her a tight lipped smile and nodded to the male standing behind her, "Brandon."

He gave a small smile and wave and shoved his hands in his pockets, "How you holdin' up?"

She grinned at his awkwardness and sighed, "Been better."

She pursed her lips and looked at them with a tentative stare, "How'd you find this place?"

Brandon shrugged, "Well first we tried to GPS your phone, but that was blown up with...you... So that didn't work... The, um, hospital wasn't allowed to release any information to us… so that was a dead end… Then we thought that maybe we could try to search all the Stella Bonasera's in the yellow pages, but you're not listed... and then we..."

"Your address is on your paycheck," the woman interjected, cutting off the ramblings of the man behind her with a pointed glare at him.

Stella nodded and laughed softly, "Right…" _Should've known._

Her hand extended to reach for the flowers but she hesitated to hand them to her, "Are we interrupting something?"

She glanced back down the hall to where Mac was waiting in her living room and sighed, "Sort of. Thank you for the flowers, guys. They're very sweet. Now, if you'll excuse..."

Brandon followed her glance and stepped closer to her, "Stell, are you okay?"

Ashley grinned and leaned in with him, "Is it a guy? A hunky doctor?"

Brandon looked at her, "She wouldn't do something like that. She has better taste than that... I bet it's the boss."

If only he knew...

She put her hand up and kept them at arm's length, "I'm fine, you guys. I have company. I'll see you in a couple days."

She reached and grabbed the flowers but as she turned to take them into her apartment and shut the door, she was met by Mac. His hands slid the arrangement from her hands and he glanced over her shoulder at her team members.

"Well, hello." The brunette stepped forward and beamed, "I'm Ashley Gilbert. I'm on Stella's CSI team."

Before Mac could reply, a soft cough from behind Ashley caught everyone's attention. The brunette sighed and stepped aside, "This is Brandon. He works in the crime lab, too."

"I'm a technician," Brandon added not without pride, stepping to the front. "Computers and all the IT stuff you can think of are my specialty."

"He's a wannabe master hacker who decided to fight for the forces of good." Ashley rolled her eyes. "And our local klutz. If you need anything broken, call Brandon," she sneaked in another barb.

Brandon shot her a sideways glance but Mac could see there was an undercurrent of sympathy in their banter.

"The instruction that came with that photo frame clearly said it was unbreakable," he said with indignation.

"So you had to go check it anyway?" she hissed. "It was a gift from my dad!"

"Guys, enough." Stella chuckled and watched Ashley blush and turn her suddenly sheepish gaze to Mac. Stella wasn't entirely sure she liked the way her younger CSI kept ogling him. She shook her head and stepped closer to Mac, her hand resting on his lower back, subtly staking a claim to her territory.

"Almost like NY," Mac raised an amused eyebrow at Stella. "Detective Mac Taylor," he nodded his head in the direction of the two visitors.

"He's the lead detective and head of the crime lab in New York," Stella added on an explanatory note, though not without pride.

Both of the younger CSI's eyes widened as they looked at him and gawked; Brandon was the first to react, "Nate has told us all about you. Wow. I can't believe I am actually getting to meet you. This is so cool."

He extended his hand then pulled back seeing Mac's hands now occupied with the arrangement, "...Right. Sorry."

Ashley shot Brandon another exasperated look and turned back to Mac with a smile. "A pleasure to finally meet you in person, sir. Your reputation precedes you," she added formally trying to sound very professional and sophisticated.

Brandon suddenly got a cough attack, which sounded strangely like '_cough_-suck-_cough_-up-_cough_'. Ashley shot him a dagger glance.

"I see gossip spreads fast in New Orleans," Mac quipped.

"You have no idea," Stella told him wryly from the corner of her mouth. She then turned back to her two subordinates, getting into boss mode, her eyes steeling a bit, "Now, go back to work. I will see you two in a couple days. Thanks again."

She quickly ushered Mac inside her apartment and waved to the younger couple before shutting the door and leaning her back against it once it was locked. She looked at Mac and shook her head, soft laughter reverberating in the small hallway, "Well now, I won't even get peace at my own apartment."

She delighted in hearing his gentle laughter and for a moment, all the devastation of the past months cleared away. She watched him lean against the wall with a warm smile on his face and couldn't stop herself as her hand reached up and rested on his rough cheek, caressing the flesh as green met blue. Her thumb brushed his lips and the moment suddenly turned. Her eyes glanced between his eyes and lips and she leaned in slowly, but the planter kept the distance between their bodies and reminded her that things between them weren't quite all settled.

Mac could almost see the electric sparks jumping between them, her sudden closeness bringing all his senses into overdrive. For a moment he felt like they were back in New York and nothing had changed between them. They were Mac and Stella again – partners, friends, lovers, soul mates, spouses. The unstoppable duo. Two halves of one whole.

He saw the passion flickering in her eyes and knew it was reflected in his own. Still, he couldn't believe when she seemed to have made up her mind and brought her lips closer to his. His skin was prickling with anticipation and he held his breath…when the edge of the planter dug into his collarbone. He had totally forgotten he was still holding it. He pondered dropping the wretched thing unceremoniously to the ground and taking her in his arms but by the look on her face he knew it was too late. The moment was gone.

She reached for the arrangement from him, her fingers brushing his and met his eyes, almost guiltily, for a moment. She searched his blue orbs, using them as the window they'd been to her for so many years. She slid the arrangement back into her hands and nodded towards the kitchen, taking them in and setting them down on the counter.

Mac sighed, allowing her to take the flowers from him before he really did something they didn't deserve. Then he followed her into the kitchen.

Stella chuckled as she eyed the balloon and rolled her eyes. _Only in…_ she paused in her thoughts and traced the balloons edge with her fingertips. _No. Not only here…_ Lindsay would've done something like this, and would've dragged Adam or Danny along when she went to deliver it, too. She smiled at the memory of her NY team, then turned to look at Mac, the smile still lingering on her lips.

"It feels good to laugh with you again."

He looked at her in amazement, the sound of her laughter pulling on his deepest-hidden heartstrings. Her words surprised him even more than her previous actions. When he came to New Orleans, he came with a heavy heart, fearing what he would find here. He feared the woman he loved forgot about him and made a new life for her here. He feared she didn't need him anymore. That was part of the reason why he had stayed away until now. He knew he wouldn't be able to bear facing a reality in which Stella didn't love him anymore and had no more place for him in her life. Everything pointed to that – her silence, her thriving new career and new team. And at first, it seemed his worst fears had indeed come to life.

But as he looked at her now, her eyes told him a different story. She still needed him just as he needed her. For the first time in a long time he saw that they both wanted the same thing again.

"And it's good to hear you laugh again." He offered her a small smile. "I had no idea just how much I missed it."

Encouraged by his tender tone, she moved toward him and stopped inches from his body, her hands resting at the crook of his elbow as she looked into his face with hopeful eyes, "Mac, I want this to work. I want us to work…" She reached up and rested a hand on his neck, "I know this isn't going to be easy and I know it's my fault for running and making this harder, but…"

"This is no more your fault than mine," he cut her off, tentatively wrapping his arms around her waist. This time there was nothing in between them. Except the wall they had single-handedly crafted. But even that didn't seem to hold anymore.

Her nails traced into the hair at the nape of his neck as she took a hesitant step closer and let her chest touch his, "Mac, I want to fix this. I want to come home."

He lifted his arm and let his hand graze her perfectly soft cheek. He lost count of how many sleepless nights he had spent imagining her say those words to him. Still…

"Are you sure this is what you really want, Stella?"

She frowned. "You don't seem overly enthusiastic."

He put his second hand to her face and gently cupped it. "I've been taking you for granted for far too long, Stella. I didn't listen to you and was blind to your wishes and needs," he said in a self-admonishing tone. "If you do this, I want to be absolutely sure you're doing this because that is what you _really_ want. I want to be sure that this will make _you_ happy because I couldn't bear seeing you unhappy one more day. I want to _know_ you're getting as much as me from this."

Her face softened and his selflessness took her breath away. In all of this not once did he point fingers or rebuke her for this. He had the same right as her to demand guarantees and promises but all he seemed to care about were her wishes and needs.

"I'll be getting you," she breathed. "That's more than I could wish for."

His smile was tinged with sadness as he spoke, "I want you to know what you're stepping into."

"I knew the first time."

"And look where that got us."

She furrowed her eyebrows. "What are you saying?"

"Stella, if we want this to work, to really work, I want you to take your time. I want you to weigh all your options and choose what's best for you. And I'm not sure it's me."

"Mac…"

"I'll be there when you need me and I'll wait for you however long it takes." He had to tell her this now or he feared he never would get the chance or nerve again. "But I love you too much to watch you wither away in a relationship that doesn't give you anything short of the complete and utter happiness you deserve."

It must have been his confession of love, the three words that made all the difference in the world, or perhaps the overwhelming care for her well-being and the tenderness in his voice that did it. This time she didn't let any words, walls or vases get in her way. She crushed his lips with hers in a bout of passion and love she hadn't felt in a long time.

Mac reciprocated her kiss with the same fierce fervour and was rewarded by a soft moan that escaped her lips. It felt as if they both wanted to erase the whole six months of longing and heartache by that one single kiss. They poured all the love and passion they had and more into it, and they clung to each other long after they were both out of breath.

When they were both dizzy and long past any breathlessness they had ever experienced, they finally pulled away, but even then only for an inch. Stella leaned her forehead against his and sighed.

"You'll go back to New York now, won't you?"

"I don't want to push you." His sigh equaled hers. "I want you to have your space to figure this all out for yourself. And I'll agree with any decision you make."

"I don't deserve you."

"I could say the same thing."

_XXXXXXXXXXXX_

This time when Mac stood in the check-out queue at the Louis Armstrong Airport, he found he was actually smiling. His mood couldn't be any more different than the last time he was here. Although Stella wasn't with him just yet, he knew sooner than later she would be. His smile widened as he remembered the velvety, passionate touch of her lips on his. This memory would help him carry on before that time came.

Just as his turn came, his phone buzzed to life. Seeing the caller ID, Mac excused himself and took it.

"Hey, Mac." Don's voice sounded strained. "We got a problem up here. Couple thugs broke into an apartment. We got 3 db's…two of 'em are kids. Family of prosecutor Thomas Monroe. Danny's working on the case and we've been trying to locate the guys but we got two informants saying they're coming your way to get Monroe. I'm on my way down, Danny's holding down the fort here in NY."

"I'll be waiting for you," Mac said curtly putting the phone down, his mouth a thin line.

Everything after that happened very fast. He heard screams and commotion somewhere to his right. When the first shots fired, he didn't hesitate. He drew his Glock from its holster.

The best laid plans of mice and men…

tbc.

* * *

**A/N: What are the shots about? How do you think this sudden change of plans will affect Mac and Stella's attempts at a reconciliation? Will the investigation bring them back on track or be a wrench in the works? How will Don figure into all this? **

**This and more in the next chapter – we hope you'll stay tuned and can't wait to hear back from you!** _Babygurl&Stardust_


	4. NYC NOLA Nonstop

**Happily Never After**

**Disclaimer: **We own nothing. Nada. Null. Though we wish we did;)

**A/N: **We're happy and overwhelmed about the positive responses and support we've been getting. We're having a wonderful time writing this story and are glad to know you like it. So from here, we'd like to thank every single one of you. Even if you don't review, we greatly appreciate you taking the time to read this:)

With that in mind, we both hope you will all make our day by reading, enjoying, and if you feel like it, reviewing:)

* * *

**Chapter 4 – NYC/NOLA Nonstop**

_Everything after that happened very fast. He heard screams and commotion somewhere to his right. When the first shots fired, he didn't hesitate. He drew his Glock from its holster._

Mac sat with his cuffed hands dangling despondently off his knees. He had resigned himself to counting the tiles on the floor after he had explained to the security guard for the tenth time his situation, and it still had no effect whatsoever.

"I've got two words for you, _detective_ Taylor," the guard had smirked. "'No' and 'jurisdiction'. We wait for our cops and they'll decide what to do with you."

And he had said nothing more since then. After about ten more minutes he heard a confident click of heels nearing them and then an all too familiar voice ordering the guards, "I got him, boys."

It was obvious she wasn't fully into work, as she looked at the guard in her jeans and a teeshirt. Mac watched her flash her badge to the officers and flash him a mischievous grin as she walked up.

"Detective Taylor," she said. "I see you've gotten yourself in quite a predicament."

"You know him, ma'am?" the security guard from earlier stood behind her back, still eyeing Mac suspiciously.

Stella's gaze didn't leave Mac as she answered with a barely concealed smile on her face, "You can say so." She couldn't stop herself from teasing him a bit more.

"Because if you don't, then…" he let his voice trail ominously.

"We're fine, officer." There was steel in Stella's voice all of a sudden and the guard beat a hasty retreat.

Stella's gaze turned to Mac. She raised an eyebrow at him but made no move towards him.

Mac huffed. "Stella, the cuffs?"

"I don't know, Mac..." This time the smile was large and she chuckled softly while shaking her head and crossing her arms over her chest.

"Stella…" his body tensed as he gave her his signature stare and willed her to open the cuffs.

"That stopped working on me years ago and you know it, Taylor." She pursed her lips and raised an eyebrow watching him.

"Damn it, Stella." He leaned back in the chair and let his cuffed hands rest on his thighs.

"Save it, Mac. You're in my jurisdiction now…" she leaned in closer and made sure no one else could hear her as she whispered to him, "And here? What I say goes."

She pulled back with a playful wink and turned to check on her team. Her eyes caught them speaking to witnesses and she sighed as she watched Nate and Ashley circle the white sheet covering their vic. She turned back to Mac with a smirk and eyed him sitting on the bench, "You know, of all the stunts you've pulled, this is probably my favorite."

She nodded for him to come to her and smiled as he approached her hands tracing his wrists and her eyes meeting his with restrained laughter, "I can't believe you got into this situation."

"I heard a gun shot. It's our training to…"

"You pulled a gun in an airport, Mac."

Her eyes softened as she gripped his hand gently, "You know when I heard the report that there was an officer down here… I think my heart stopped. The only thing I could keep thinking was that it was you and that…"

She shook her head and looked up at him with gentle eyes, "I'm so glad it's not you." Her fingers fisted in the front of his shirt and she gave him a gentle tug towards her mouth.

"Hey, Stell…"

"Yeah, Nate…" She pulled back and turned to him, quickly putting up her professional veneer on.

"We have a security guard down. Gunshot to the chest, looks like close range. ME's office is taking the body now. You working this one or…"

"I want Ashley and you to work the scene. I'm going back to the lab to handle the Commissioner and Chief… and try to figure out what the hell is going on." She sighed and gave a nod.

"Taking Mac with you?"

She frowned at his use of Mac's first name but glanced back at Mac, seeing a smile on his face and reached down, opening the handcuffs, "I don't have a choice, if I leave him here, he might get into trouble again."

Mac let out an exasperated sigh. He got the feeling that he wouldn't hear the end of this any time soon. Though deep inside, he knew he didn't really mind and would let her tease him to her heart's content. It was one of those things in their relationship that made it so special. It showed just how well Stella knew him and how much she cared. She was one of the few persons who knew just which strings to pull to make the poker-faced, stoical and responsible head of one of the biggest and most respected institutions in law enforcement disappear and bring out the relaxed, easygoing casual guy that he normally couldn't afford to be. On the job, he had to be on top of his game 24/7 and he knew it took a toll on him, both emotional and physical. Stella was his escape and his anchor to normality.

Her joyful chuckle brought him out of his head. She looked at him and winked, seeming to thus confirm Mac's suspicions that he wouldn't hear the end of 'Rambo' and 'lonely ranger' allusions till the case was over. _I'm doomed._

Stella observed the play of emotions on Mac's face with slight apprehension. She wasn't entirely sure how her teasing would be received. It used to be so natural between them before, like a private joke only the two of them were in on. It was one of the things that made them so great and made everyone else raise an eyebrow at her daring to tease the stern big-fish Mac Taylor thus. She knew the big fish enjoyed it as much as her, though. But now she wasn't sure anymore. She wasn't sure of anything anymore and everything she did – every gesture, every word – was underlined with a fearful twinge. She didn't want to blow this second chance they had given each other.

Then she felt a hand touch her elbow gently. She glanced back at Nate with a perplexed smile. He smiled and nodded, "Take it easy though, Stella. I don't want you back in the hospital anytime soon."

She smiled warmly and nodded, "Thank you, Nate. Get to work." She nodded towards the scene and turned back to Mac.

"Remind me to fire him."

"Why?" His hands rested on her biceps as she stepped closer.

She leaned up, letting her mouth rest just a breath from his ear and whispered to him, "He ruined my little game."

She pulled back with a shy smile and ran her hand over his shoulder and down his arm, giving his hand a little squeeze before stepping away from him and heading back to the security guard with his cuffs.

Mac looked after her, his lips twitching upwards.

_XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX_

Stella navigated the busy New Orleans streets easily in the Suburban, a familiar sense of comfort in the car with Mac next to her. Suddenly her phone began to ring. She glanced down at it, seeing it was Nate, she put it on the speaker. "Nate?"

"We've got a problem."

"And what would that be?"

"Pulled the surveillance photos. The security guard was shot by a pilot."

"Did the video capture the ID?"

"That's the thing, neither of them flashed ID."

"There were two of them?" She glanced at Mac with confusion etched on her face but saw a look of realization on his.

"Yup," Nate confirmed. "And before you ask, we checked for missing pilots. A plane from New York had just landed prior to the shooting. Ashley went to check the plane out. The pilot and co-pilot were stripped of their uniforms and had been strangled in the cockpit. The stewardess was found dead in there, too."

_Jesus, this is turning into a carnage_, she thought grimly before speaking to Nate, "Get the evidence and bring it back to the lab. I'll meet you there."

"You got it, Stell. Over and out," he said and ended the call.

Stella turned to Mac and sighed, "Two pilots and a stewardess are dead, and there appears to be a connection to the security guard's shooting," she summed up with a frown. "Do you know something that I don't?"

"Possibly."

"Ok, Mac, what's going on?"

He sighed, flashing her a sideways glance, "Flack didn't tell me much. Just that we have a dead family of a New York DA Thomas Monroe… and that they're heading our way."

She parked the car in the parking structure at the lab and turned to him, "What? Why?"

"Monroe is in New Orleans. They're following him here."

"They? How many are there?"

He nodded and sighed, "Two drug dealers. Apparently Monroe put them away a couple years ago…"

"And now they want revenge," she ended, her lips forming into a thin line. "Damn it."

She climbed out of the car and slammed the door heading towards the entrance with him next to her. She noticed the tell-tale crease on his forehead and the frown building on his face. They both knew they had a multiple-murder case on their hands, ruthless killers with nothing to lose were running free _and _they weren't done yet. This would be a race against time.

She reached over and slid her hand in his, "We'll get these guys, Mac."

_XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX_

"I should warn you, it's not quite what you're used to." She glanced at him as the elevator headed up to the crime lab. "The lab is still being rebuilt after Katrina and we have lots to catch up on. I only found out how spoiled I was when I got here. I should have pilfered at least one ABI genetic analyzer from NY. We could use one here."

"I guess I know what I'll be getting you for Christmas," he quipped.

She looked up at him in wonder. Christmas. Together. The very notion he implied in his words made her stomach do an excited somersault.

Mac saw how bright her eyes had suddenly become, and realized his words might have sounded presumptuous. "Stella, I'm sorry, I didn't mean…"

"Are you backing out now?" she asked with a wry grin in hope of lightening the mood, knowing that if she didn't act, he would take her words too personally and crucify himself with them. She wanted him to act normal around her, not overanalyze every word and walk on eggshells around her.

"I would give you the moon, Stella." He smiled lightly. "But I was out of line," he added, his expression subdued.

He had no idea where they were standing now that their carefully crafted plan had gone to hell. He felt like he was groping his way through dense mist; no idea how to make this right but wanting to so much it hurt. She had told him she wanted the same but that was before his sudden return. He knew she needed space and he didn't know how they were going to work this new situation out.

"I failed you and I lost the right to assume anything about us…"

"Mac, please," she put a hand to his cheek. "Don't do this to yourself and to me. Why can't you accept you're not the only who made a mistake here?"

He locked eyes with her and she knew he wasn't convinced in the least. She saw he blamed himself and himself only for what had happened.

"And I don't want to make another one," he sighed. "This is not how we planned this. If you're not comfortable with me here, I'll leave and send Danny over instead."

"You'd do this? For me?" she asked incredulously. Mac Taylor ready to relinquish his quest for justice, all he stood for and give up the chase of murdering criminals for personal reasons? For _her_?

"I can be on the next plane to NY." He nodded though he couldn't bring himself to look her in the eye. He would do everything she wanted him to but he couldn't fight the feeling of loneliness that crept up his spine and settled around his heart. He had resigned himself to going away and giving Stella her space but now that fate had turned his plans to dust, he realized how much he wanted to stay here with her. He never wanted to leave her side again.

When she stayed silent, he understood it as a confirmation. "I'm sorry for all this." He ran a hand over his face. He suddenly felt very tired and very old. "This is not how it was supposed to be."

"Mac… Don't." She smiled and nudged his shoulder with hers, "You're over thinking things again." She touched his cheek, "So we don't take the rebuilding thing slow… when have we ever done things the conventional way?"

He shook his head. "Sometimes I think that's why we…" _fell apart? Failed? _He couldn't bring himself to say the words aloud. That would make them final.

Stella saw the pain flash through his eyes and she knew what went through his mind. She put a hand on his chest, her lips a thin line. She wasn't going to let him bury himself in guilt.

"No," she cut him off categorically. "That's why we're so _great_."

The intensity and tenderness in her eyes seemed to disperse all the specters surrounding his heart. He cracked a smile.

"And you're not getting out of here so fast, mister," she whispered, giving his lapel a small tug. "My jurisdiction, my rules, remember?"

He huffed but as he felt her hand rub his back and give it a small pat, he let out a small, relieved chuckle. Then the doors opened to their floor and he followed Stella as she headed off into the well lit setting.

Conventional white walls and large panes of glass surrounded them as she guided him through the maze. Stella was right – it wasn't anywhere near as advanced as the New York lab, and clearly was still rebuilding after Katrina, but Mac could see how proud she was of her new environment.

She paused at a large brown door and turned to him with a big grin on her face. "This… is my office."

Her enthusiasm for the setting was infectious and he gave a small smile as she opened the door and led him in. Two white walls, with shelves of books and reference material surrounded a large desk and two chairs; but the highlight of the room was her view. Two large walls of glass that acted as the other two walls to her office, gave a spectacular view of the city.

She watched him walk to the windows and gaze out before following him over and resting her hands on his shoulders as she looked out the window with him, "Isn't it beautiful?"

"I've seen better." He looked at her with tenderness in his eyes and she laughed softly before leaning up and brushing his cheek with a kiss. "I'll be back in a minute, why don't you get comfortable?"

She grabbed a couple folders and hustled out of the office, leaving him alone in her space. It almost felt more like a home here than her apartment. She had gotten comfortable in this setting. Plants, mementos… it even had a hint of her perfume in the air. He sat down in the chair opposite hers and noticed a picture frame on her desk.

Probably Lucy.

He knew how close she and Lucy had been before everything that had happened, and he was sure that Stella missed her deeply, but as he turned the photo around and saw the image in the frame, his heart stopped.

It was them. She and him, from several years back. Neither looking at the camera, both more content to focus on the other with large smiles on their faces. This was the memory she'd kept of him; the one that made this office her home. He sighed softly and replaced the photo before looking around once more.

The sound of her heels clicking on the marble flooring brought his attention and he turned to the door as she breezed to the frame and smiled at him, "Hey, I just got a call from Flack. He's waiting for us at the airport. Comin'?"

___XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX_

"Don." Stella slid into his arms happily and grinned as he held her, "Been too long."

He nodded and looked her over, "You look good, Stell. New Orleans has been takin' care of ya, huh?"

She glanced over her shoulder at Mac and smiled warmly, "I think it's a recent change, Don." She looked back at him and sighed, "How's New York?"

"Not bad. Danny and Linds told me to tell you that Luce misses you."

Her eyes clouded over for a moment and she nodded, "I miss her, too." She smiled and rubbed his biceps for a moment, enjoying the reconnection before snapping into work mode and walking between him and Mac, "So what do I need to know about this case, Don? Details you gave Mac were..."

"Sketchy at best." Mac looked at Flack with a raised eyebrow.

Stella smiled at him and turned back to Don, "If we're going to do this together..."

"Stella, I know. I got it all right here." He held up the NYCL folder and her fingers twitched with excitement seeing the familiar stamp and inscription. She reached for it and tossed Mac the keys, "You drive?"

Mac nodded and slid into the driver's seat with Stella next to him. He allowed himself a small smile as he started the engine. At least when it came to the job, they both seemed to get back into their routine seamlessly. It was all so familiar and natural that he now couldn't imagine how he had managed the last six months without her.

"I don't get shot gun?" came Flack's snarky voice breaking Mac's train of thought.

"Get in, Don," Stella said rolling her eyes in Mac's direction. He replied with a discreet half-smile.

Yes, it was all back to their routine. And it was a start.

___XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX_

Stella glanced at her team and then to Mac as she stood up, "The New York crime lab needs our assistance. They have a murdered family of a high profile New York DA." She clicked the remote and his picture came up, "Thomas Monroe. Reports are that the killers are on their way down here. We need to locate him and get him under some kind of protective watch." She glanced at Mac and then to Don and Nate, "You two are going to be in charge of that. Talk to Brandon see what he can do with GPS and phone triangulation." She nodded as Mac stepped up and slid the remote into his hands effortlessly.

"The perps are Frederico Hernandez and Kenny Gould. Just got out after two years in Rikers for drug trafficking," he clicked on the remote and two more faces showed on the screen accompanied by rows of data. "My team in New York was able to obtain three phone numbers…"

"…that I want you to monitor with Brandon," Stella finished. Mac went on with the NY data and Stella jumped seamlessly in all the right places, complementing his presentation with questions, remarks of what could be helpful in NOLA and orders for her team.

"Are they always like this?" Two large brown eyes stared up at Flack and Ashley glanced back at her boss and Mac.

Flack looked up at the two of them and watched as they so easily worked around each other and let their natural ability to mesh take over.

_"The victim is…" he rattled off the usual information about the suspect, the basics that he was sure would be a forgotten memory shortly after the case would be solved. This one, a poor sucker that was a guidance counselor, happened to die chaperoning a high school prom. Flack was not envious of the way this guy went. Acid poured on him, the living hell beaten out of him – it wasn't pretty._

_He admired the hell out of Stella Bonasera. She wasn't even flinching as she bent over and took photos of the gruesome sight. It was almost monotonous it seemed. After all the killing and death and weird circumstances the team had seen, this was just another one to chalk up on the board. _

_She stood up after taking the photos and looked at him with a curious look._

_"Who discovered the body?"_

_He smirked. It was like having it in stereo. Two voices, one sentence, at the same time. He watched as she turned to the other man in the room, her longtime partner, with a large smile; while her partner entered further into the room with a shy smile. _

_"You two have been working together way too long…"_

_She laughed softly and dropped her eyes, and… wait… was she blushing? He glanced a little closer and saw a hint of pink in her cheeks. _

_Go figure._

_He cast a glance back at Mac who had dropped his head and also appeared to have a slight tinge of pink around his neck._

_There was something going on. He had been in the office bet for years but moments like these, where they so clearly clicked and where electricity flowed in the room; these moments were all the confirmation he needed. _

_These two were meant for each other. _

_They were magic._

He smirked and shook his head, "This is only the beginning, just wait."

___XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX_

"Well, until we can find something out about the DA's location or find anything to prove that the guys are here… we have nothing. Brandon, I want you to monitor the cell numbers we got from NY. As soon as they turn any of them on, we'll be able to triangulate their position," Stella ended with a sigh. "But until then, you guys might as well go home for a night."

"Stell, are you sure?" Nate stepped forward and shrugged, "Maybe we can…"

She shook her head, "Why spin our tires? Maybe tomorrow we'll come back with fresh eyes and find something."

She nodded to them to leave and then turned to Mac in her office. She walked over slowly and leaned against her desk, looking at him in the chair and sighed. "We should probably think about getting out of here, too. No good telling them to get lost and then us staying and spinning our tires. If we have nothing… we have nothing."

Mac looked up at her and nodded. How did he even begin to tell her how proud and impressed he was? She had a firm grip on the lab, her team respected her and looked up to her. With a resigned sigh, he rubbed his neck and stood up.

She licked her lips and watched him stand and meander about her office, trying to guess what was on his mind. Now that they had set out on a course to reconcile and try again, she hated the idea of him being away from her in a hotel room, but would he be comfortable coming to stay in her apartment with her? Would he even want to risk that?

"Where will you sleep?" she asked tentatively.

Mac looked at her searchingly, a feeling of pleasant surprise creeping up his spine at the smile she gave him, and the meaning it held.

"I…I thought of catching a cab and getting back to the hotel I stayed in last night."

"I've got a free couch," she offered shyly. It seemed like such a long time since they slept in one space and she didn't know how he'd react with all that had happened. "It's free of charge and you've got quality company guaranteed."

He stared at her, not really sure he heard her right.

"You interested?" she asked a bit more confidently, seeing the smile on his face.

___XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX_

She slid the key into her lock with him behind her and turned it, feeling almost like she was home with him in New York. She opened the door and let him in, shutting the door behind him and watching him take his jacket off and attempt to get more comfortable. Her coat joined his on the hook and she quickly moved to help him move his luggage into the living room. She stood awkwardly in the space for a moment before looking at him, "Hungry?"

Half an hour later they sat on her living room floor picking at a pizza and sharing a bottle of wine. She laughed softly at one of his tales of one of Adam's recent experiments and gently leaned into him, "I'm glad they're doing so well."

He became somber and turned to her, touching her cheek gently and tucking a curl behind her ear, "They miss you, though, Stella. Don't think that you've been replaced or forgotten."

She looked up at him and smiled softly before leaning up and pressing her lips to his gently, "I know." She curled into his side a little more and rested her head on his shoulder.

He put his arm around her, the velvety softness of her lips on his still clouding his mind and senses. He took a contented deep breath, taking a moment to appreciate how perfectly she fitted against him, like they were created especially for each other.

Moments of silence passed and they sat just enjoying the closeness and bonding they were doing before she sighed and pulled back, "We should get to bed."

He looked down at her, a small pout building on his lips and she had to chuckle at his boyish expression. He let his hand trail down hers as she slowly stood up, a pleasant shiver reaching the tips of her toes.

With a sigh, she moved the garbage into the kitchen, putting the cork back into the wine and moving it aside for another time before cleaning up a little and then heading back to him. She stood in front of him awkwardly for a moment before applying feather soft kisses to his cheek and lips, "Goodnight, Mac."

"Night, Stell," he whispered, not sure his voice would allow him anything more. Her closeness was intoxicating and whenever she was this close, he simply couldn't think straight. Time and distance had done nothing to weaken the power she held over him. He realized nothing would ever change that. It was like magic.

___XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX_

It wasn't that the couch was uncomfortable. To the contrary, it was one of the softest he'd ever slept in. It wasn't that he wasn't tired, either. He was _bone-tired_. It wasn't even the fact that the case was lying heavy on his mind. It was, but not that much. Still, he tossed and turned and couldn't even get himself to close his eyes.

Being here in one apartment with Stella, their 'dinner' together and her good-night kiss was so much like the old times that it hurt when he thought about it too much.

He turned to his other side, re-adjusting the pillow under his head.

He couldn't get the discovery he had made at her office out of his mind. The picture of them together, smiling and so in love, was like a thorn in his side. Could they ever get this back? Were they going about this the right way? Did he make the right decision to stay here? Stella insisted she wanted him here but was this the best choice? If they jumped back too fast into their marriage like nothing had happened, driven by their strong-as-ever infatuation with each other, he feared they would get back to their old bad habits and repeat their mistakes.

He turned onto his belly with a muffled grunt but that didn't help much so he flipped to his back.

He could do nothing about the pull he felt towards her. He never could. He just hoped they weren't heading for another disaster. But how could anything that felt so good lead to anything bad? For once, his mind seemed to fall silent. With a sigh, he closed his eyes, willing himself to fall asleep.

In the next room, Stella sighed as she stared at the ceiling and flipped onto her side, then to her other side, then to her stomach. She crossed her arms under her pillow and rested her chin on top of them as she sighed and let her mind wage its own little debate. They had made plans. Him going back to NY and letting her take her time to get her things down here straightened up and handled. She'd wanted that time to say goodbye and slowly edge her way back into his existence. They'd been apart for a substantial amount of time and she wasn't completely convinced that they'd be able to fix this, no matter HOW hard they tried.

But he was here, in her apartment, on her couch, wanting to give this a shot and make this work. She licked her lips and turned back onto her back. Her eyes slid shut as she tried to will herself to sleep, but after five minutes, she gave up and slid out of bed. Her hands grabbed a silken robe and she pulled it on quickly before going to the bedroom door and peeking out into the living room.

She smiled and watched him as he mirrored her actions, turning and obviously letting himself over think this, too. Moments like these only assured her that no matter what, they'd be able to make it work. They were too much alike for it to not work. She bit back a chuckle as he turned again and had to rearrange the blankets. She stepped into the room softly and whispered, so as not to startle him, "Mac, you asleep?"

He turned on the couch. "No," he said after a while. "Can't sleep."

"Why doesn't that surprise me?" she asked wryly. "Got room for two there?"

He turned to look at her in utter amazement, "Um…yeah, sure."

When she came to stand over him, he still didn't make a move. "You sure?" he asked in bewilderment.

"Scoot," she ordered and he moved back making space for her.

She carefully slid into position, letting her chest press into his as her hands rested upon his chest, allowing her fingers to feel his steady heart beat. He put the blanket over them and his arm naturally found its way around her waist. She moved closer to him, placing her head under his chin. He breathed in the fruity smell of her hair and closed his eyes, reveling in the moment and Stella's closeness.

"I missed this."

Her soft admission was barely audible but she knew he'd heard it as he hugged her a little closer and she smiled against his neck, "What are you thinking about, Mac?"

Her fingers entwined with his and she focused her eyes on them, watching as their hands melded into one, where she couldn't tell where he started and she ended. His silence was deafening and she looked up at him with worried eyes.

"How impressed by you I am," he admitted. "You've achieved the impossible here. You've created a great team from scratch, re-built this lab basically from ashes, you're a strong leader…"

"I had a good teacher," she said, her face still buried in his neck and her words coming out slightly muffled.

Her warm breath on his skin made him take in a rugged breath. "A teacher can only do so much," he finally managed. "This is all you, Stella. This is your success. And I'm happy for you."

"You have no idea how much you telling me this means to me. Every day I've worked here, every case I investigated, every decision I made, you were with me right here," she took his hand and put it to her temple. "And here," she placed his hand above her heart.

"Stella, I'm so sorry," he whispered, once again realizing how much he had hurt her. This extraordinary woman had not only given him her love but also her trust and respect, and he was foolish enough to let her slip out of his fingers. "Are you sure you want me here?"

She leaned forward and pressed her lips to his forehead, where lines of worry were beginning to show, "Stop worrying about this." She traced her lips down the side of his face and then moved away an inch to look him in the eye, "We will make this work. You know we will."

He didn't reply. Instead, he gently slid his hand into her curls and brought her face back to his. He brushed his lips against hers and smiled when he heard her offer a contented sigh. Soon, she was sleeping like a baby, safely nestled in Mac's arms.

He smiled into the darkness as he listened to her soft snoring, the most adorable sound he had ever heard; one that reminded him of the one thing that was really important in his life, the one thing worth fighting for. And fight he would.

* * *

**A/N: Thanks for reading, we hope it was good and you liked it! You know what to do now, right? The review button's calling your name;) **

**Have a great weekend! **

_Babygurl&Stardust_


	5. Miles Of Troubles

**Happily Never After**

**Disclaimer: **We own nothing. Nada. Null. Though we wish we did.

**A/N: **The dreaded Friday has finally come…we hope this chapter helps to keep your Smacked spirits up!

_This is to all Smacked fans:)_

* * *

**Chapter 5 – Miles Of Troubles**

The pain was excruciating. It was nothing he hadn't experienced before but its acuteness caught him by surprise. Mac groaned and slowly opened his eyes, trying to move as little as possible so as not to strain his already stiff and sore cervical vertebrae further.

He let his eyesight adjust to the half-darkness in the room and took a look around. The first soft rays of morning light were streaming through a window he didn't recognize on the carpet he didn't know in a room that was completely unknown to him. Then his eyes rested on the mane of dark blonde curls draped over his chest and despite the pain, he cracked a small smile. This he did recognize. Would recognize anywhere.

He took a deep sigh and let himself linger in the blissful feeling that was having Stella's cheek pressed over his heart and her arms wound around him in a warm, loving embrace. Listening to her peaceful breathing interrupted by a soft snore once in a while helped him ignore the pain in his strained nape and brought a wave of content and stillness over his troubled heart and mind.

They used to wake up like this almost every morning. They had both been alone for so long that when they finally found each other, they just couldn't get enough of one another and used every moment they could to cherish and cultivate this new-found, intoxicating closeness. They both treasured it with double the force because they knew what it was to be bereft of it. Thanks to Stella, he had discovered that a truth which was just empty words and a naïve sentiment to him before held the essence of human existence – the greatest miracle of life was to love and be loved in return.

What made them forget that? What made him so blind? Only when he had lost her did he realize how much having her love him, having her so close actually meant to him. He guessed that was part of the reason why she had left – to make him realize what he would be losing. It was a painful and cruel lesson but one he deserved.

Suddenly Stella shifted slightly and to stop her from falling off the narrow couch onto the floor, Mac's arm instinctively shot out and secured her still sleeping form in his embrace. His strained muscles and tendons instantly protested against the abrupt movement with a renewed flare of pain that shot from his nape all the way down to his lumbar spine. He would have to see a doctor one of these days.

He never was the one to pamper or indulge himself. His body was to do his bidding not the other way round. His time in the Corps and the NYPD had only served to strengthen and toughen everything that could be strengthened and toughened and Mac had always liked it this way. He was a Marine, for Christ's sake. The toughest of the tough. Or so he thought. What neither the best Lebanese bombers nor elite Iraqi commandos could do, one night on a couch could.

Marine or no Marine, he had to start facing the fact that he wasn't getting any younger. He was already on the wrong side of forty five and the old injuries from his army times were reminding themselves to him ever more categorically with every year. Despite his regular workouts, swimming and jogging, the long hours he spent daily at his desk were taking its toll on him. Besides, he didn't have much time to take care of him lately and frankly, he lost all the willingness to when Stella had left. Now he was paying for it.

He let out another sigh, venturing a slight shift onto the side. As he moved, his gaze suddenly locked with a pair of sparklingly green orbs staring into him. They remained like this for what seemed like a small eternity, mesmerized by the other's gaze and relishing the closeness.

Finally Stella let her lips curl into her trademark megawatt smile."Hi," she said softly.

"Hi." He tried to lean in and press a kiss onto her forehead but he fell back onto the pillow frowning.

Stella leaned over him with concern. "It's your neck again, isn't it?" she asked knowingly. "That old injury?"

He just nodded.

"Mac, I'm so sorry. If you'd slept alone, this wouldn't have happened," she said, her mouth a tight line.

"Stella, don't." Seeing her consternation, he chuckled in spite of the pain that instantly shot through his back again. He put a hand to her cheek. How did he tell her that he would agree to all the pain in the world in exchange for another night like this with her? Would she even like to hear such words from him?

"This was the most sleep I got since…" _you left_. He looked her in the eye and could see she was feeling guilty as it was and decided to quickly rephrase. "- in months," he ended somewhat tightly.

She cracked a half-smile knowing what he was doing – downplaying his pain and ignoring his health so as not to worry her. Even when he was suffering, _he_ was still trying to make _her_ feel better.

"Me too," she admitted softly. "Thanks to you," she added. "Now let me do something for you in return and take care of that back," she said and got up.

She disappeared in the bathroom. Mac stood up and tried to stretch but it ended with the pain shooting down his shoulder and arm yet again. He managed to get the frown of pain from his face just as Stella reentered the living room holding a tube of warming muscle rub. This was going to hurt.

"Sit down," she patted the armchair encouragingly.

"Stella, you really don't have to…"

"But I want to, Mac. I did this before and it always helped," she said with a hopeful lilt in her voice. "Let me do this. If not for you then for me," she said wryly. "If we don't deal with this now, I'll have to watch the whole day as you frown and squirm in pain when you think I'm not looking."

"I don't squirm," he said with indignation.

"Spoken like a true Marine," she deadpanned. "Now take your teeshirt off."

He raised an eyebrow at her. "So that's what it's all about."

She put her hands on her hips. "Don't even try changing the subject, Taylor," she said wryly. "I know all your tricks, remember? You're not getting out of this."

He gave her that boyish look of injured innocence but sat himself on the armchair.

"You just want your revenge on me," he said teasingly.

Stella leaned over his good shoulder and he felt her warm breath tickle his ear.

"If it was up to me, I'd take it differently," she purred and he felt a familiar heat only she was able to rekindle rise within him as she pressed a gentle kiss to the side of his neck.

_XXXXXXXXXXXXXXX_

Mac frowned and tentatively moved his neck to the side, his muscles still vibrating from the rub and his heart rate still raised at the memory of Stella's fingers on his skin. He heard a chuckle from the side and glanced at his torturer, who was standing right beside him in the elevator taking them to the lab.

He shot her a sideways glance. "Why do I get the impression you enjoyed yourself more than you should this morning?"

"That's because I did," she said with a wide grin. "And you did squirm," she added gleefully.

"You won't let this go, will you?"

"Of course not," she deadpanned. "It's too much fun."

She felt for him and knew he was in pain but at the same time she just couldn't contain her good mood and the fluttery feeling of happiness that was making her slightly light-headed. She was falling in love again with the man she loved, and however strange or convoluted it sounded, it felt so right.

Mac glanced at her, a feeling of warmth stealing over him. She was positively glowing, and looked more beautiful than ever. He let his heart take over and leaned in, his face suddenly inches from hers.

"You know what else is fun?" he murmured against her lips. He saw the excited glint in her eyes and lightly pressed his lips against the corner of her mouth. Then he swiftly moved away and heard her let out a disappointed groan.

It was his turn to chuckle.

"You're gonna regret this, Taylor," she said just as the elevator doors opened.

They barely stepped off the elevator when Ashley caught them.

"You should be warned that the Chief of Police is in your office," she announced to Stella.

"I just spoke with him yesterday. What the hell could he want now?"

"I have no idea. All I heard was a lot of 'When Bonasera gets here I need to see her' and 'Don't you have anything better to do than stand around?' He is not in a good mood, Stella."

She sighed and glanced at Mac, "You…you should go to ballistics. See if our bullet from the security guard matches whatever _our_…your team found."

She hoped her slip wasn't caught and turned around, quickly heading to her office.

Mac saw her off with his glance, his brow furrowed. One look at her taut posture and stiff gait told him she wasn't expecting this to be a friendly chat. He had fought enough battles with the brass, his 'friendly relationship' with Sinclair already the stuff of legends in the department, to be worried about her. She would stand her ground as she always did, of that he was sure, but playing with the brass was a whole new ball game. It wasn't easy and there was little fair play involved. Still, he had to let her fight her own battles. That was one of the mistakes he'd made that he wasn't going to repeat.

He heard a small but meaningful shuffle to his right and realized that Ashley was still standing there, her eyes trained on him.

"Shall I take you to the ballistics lab, Detective Taylor?" she asked shyly and he thought he saw her cheeks take on a slightly deeper shade of pink.

"Lead the way, detective," he nodded and allowed himself one last glance over his shoulder at Stella.

_XXXXXXXXXXXXXXX_

Her hands in fists at her sides, Stella opened the door and stepped into her office.

"Chief Douglas."

"Was I unclear yesterday, Bonasera?"

"On which part?"

"I told you I wanted those NYPD cops out of here. They have no jurisdiction here and they don't need to be working this case."

"Our case is a part of theirs, Chief. I cannot send them away without aiding them in their investigation."

"Detective Bonasera, this is my lab and I say…"

"No, sir," she cut him off with force. "I run this lab. This is my concern how I choose to manage my resources and who I share them with. I thought that was why you hired me. Because I have my own brain and I'm not afraid to use it."

He grit his jaw and glared at her, "You're giving them free reign of the lab."

Her eyes narrowed as she stood her ground and held her hands on her hips, "I am keeping a watchful eye on them. They are two of the BEST that the NYPD has to offer… Especially Mac Taylor. He's the best CSI I have worked with in my career and I would trust him with my life. His success rate is un…"

"If their people had caught the guys BEFORE they got on a plane to New Orleans, we wouldn't have two serial killers with nothing to lose on OUR streets."

"Well, they didn't and now we do. How long do you intend to keep me from solving this case?"

"I am not keeping…"

"By having me in here, defending my actions to you, I am wasting valuable time. I could be out in the lab working with my team and the two NYPD investigators here, to find these men and bring them to justice. HOW LONG am I going to be sitting here qualifying myself to you? I made my choice, Chief. I am going to have my team working alongside these men. I would think that with all I've done for this lab in the past 6 months, I'd have proven I am capable of making choices and I am standing by this one."

She tightened her jaw as the man glared hard at her before storming out of her office and slamming the door behind him. She released a breath she didn't realize she'd be holding and put her hand down on her desk, trying to calm herself and the shaking from the adrenaline.

_XXXXXXXXXXXXXXX_

Outside the office Flack looked at her team, the argument had been loud enough to echo down the halls and every one had heard. He turned to look at Mac, who had been keeping a watchful eye on Stella the entire time from the lab he was in with Ashley. When he was done with the analysis, he came up to Flack just as the NO Chief of Detectives stormed off, shooting dagger glances in his and Don's direction.

"That kinda looks familiar," Don deadpanned looking at Mac meaningfully. "I see the other Taylor has an equally impressive way with the brass."

"It's a family thing," Mac quipped with a wry smile but as Don turned away to answer his phone, he looked back at Stella, his expression serious. There was something in the way she held herself and in the focused expression on her face that told him how much she had changed. She was still his Stella, but at the same time she seemed stronger than ever, hardened even. Fighting your own battles and winning with potentially stronger opponents did that to a person.

Had Flack seen the impressed and loving expression on Mac's face, he wouldn't have any more doubts about the state of things at least from Mac's side but as it was, he was busy with answering his phone, "Yeah, it's Flack."

"Flack, it's Danny. Listen, got some background on the guys… Frederico Hernandez and Kenny Gould just got out after 2 year for drug trafficking. Both have rap sheets. Career criminals, man. You guys need to find that DA and put someone on him. These guys are brutal. They snapped the 9 year old daughter's neck."

"Jeez, talk about making a statement. Alright, Danny, thanks."

"Hey, how's Stell? She doin' good down there?"

"Not too sure, yet. Haven't really had much time to catch up, y'know?"

"Yeah… tell her everyone up here says hey… and uh, tell her Lucy misses her Aunt Stell, huh? We need her back up here."

"Already did, Dann-o."

"How's Mac? He working on getting her back up here with us?"

"I 'unno. I think they're working stuff out but, I mean, who knows, right?"

"I just hope it all works out, man. It's killin' me seein' Mac like this "

"Yeah, me too. I'll get at ya later."

He shut his phone and turned to Mac, "These guys aren't screwing around, Mac. They snapped the 9 year old's neck."

"I GOT SOMETHING." Brandon came bolting out of the computer hub and ran over to Mac, skidding to a stop, "I got something. The DA… he's… he's at his hotel. Remember, last night, no one at the hotel knew where he'd went, we couldn't find him anywhere, and his cell wasn't triangulating? Well, he's back up. He's at the hotel and he's been on the phone for a while."

Flack looked at Mac, who nodded his consent. Wasting no more time, Don turned and stepped into the trace lab, "'Ey, Nate. We got the DA's location. Let's move."

Nate grabbed his jacket and slid off the white lab coat, dropping it into Brandon's hands as he checked his Glock and headed for the elevators with Flack.

"What's going on?"

Stella glanced between Brandon and Mac with wide eyes. Brandon turned to her and gestured back towards the computer lab, "The, uh, DA's phone came back online. We got a location. His hotel. I think...Nate and Detective Flack are on their way."

Stella smiled proudly at Brandon and nodded, "Good work, Brandon. Now, let's see if we can get a lock on the perps."

He nodded and rushed off leaving Stella and Mac alone in the corridor. She looked at him with eyes that revealed just how shaken she was at having had the encounter with the brass that early in the morning. "Well, that started my day on a high note."

Her wry comment made him smile but he knew it was her way to distract herself from how upset she clearly was. "You ok?" he sighed.

She looked up at him with a shrug and ran her palms up and down along her thighs, trying to stop the shaking from the encounter, "Yeah… I just… I hate when I have to do something like that. It gives me a whole new appreciation for all the crap that Sinclair put you through."

"It comes with the territory," he gave her a half-smile. "And I see you can defend yours, Stella," he added, gently squeezing her bicep.

She looked at him with a grateful smile, relishing the short but meaningful contact. "Had to learn it the hard way."

"I can see that." He raised his eyebrow. "What was this all about?"

"Actually, it was about you."

He raised his eyebrows and sighed. "I seem to have quite the fan club in New Orleans," he deadpanned.

She chuckled lightly feeling the stress flow out of her body with every minute she spent in Mac's presence. "Apparently Chief Douglas thinks I'm letting you run amok in my lab and that you've taken over the control."

"Yes, we vile NYPD cops tend to do that," he quipped eliciting another chuckle from her.

She knew what he was doing and couldn't be more grateful. He was being there for her, and in all the ways she needed him to. She knew how rarely he let this relaxed, laid back side show at work and she valued it even more that he would forego his usual reservations for her sake.

He smiled at her, glad she loosened up. For once, the roles seemed to have reversed and he was the one to offer her distraction and comfort. He remembered the countless times she had done that for him. One of those moments when he really needed that and as always, she was there to give it to him, came to his mind.

"And for next time, I'll just have to buy you some sun block."

Stella looked at him with amazement, remembering how she quoted his own words to him about 'heat situations' after an especially stressful press conference when they hit a dead end with the Cabbie Killer. It was such a small episode five years ago. And he still remembered it.

She made a step closer to him, her heart overflowing with tenderness. Her eyes locked with his and she reached her hand up to graze his cheek…when a technician approached her with a file that needed signing and she almost jumped at his sudden appearance. How was it even possible that she forgot where she was? Mac was the only one who could ever make her forget herself this way and she couldn't even hold it against him. _Damn it_, she cursed herself inwardly.

Mac watched with amusement as her cheeks changed to a slightly deeper pinkish hue as she tore her gaze from him and proceeded to sign the file. She was studiously avoiding the tech's gaze as well as his. The technician gone, she gave him a small smile and licked her lips, "We should…go work on some evidence."

"I think Ashley has something interesting." He shifted into work mode, for which Stella felt immensely grateful. One more moment and she would have stepped in it for sure.

She nodded once and then stepped around him, brushing his knuckles with hers before heading into the trace lab and taking over where Nate had left off with Ashley.

_XXXXXXXXXXXXXXX_

Stella slid the slide of the substance under the lens seated herself at the state-of-the-art polarizing microscope, her newest addition to the rather poorly equipped Trace Lab. It would take a long time before this lab could equal NY. Still, it was a step in the right direction and would make their job in the lab substantially easier.

Only after taking this job did she start to fully understand what Mac had to face daily. Solving crimes was only a side task to all the budget struggles, staff decisions and constant fights with the brass. If you only let it, this job could consume you whole. Especially here in NO, when she had to build everything almost from scratch. It was becoming more and more obvious why Mac had been so encompassed by work when she had first met him… and why he had been able to use it as his escape from their marriage.

With a shake of her head, she put latex gloves on with a rubberized snap and put the samples Nate retrieved from the perps' car closer. She started examining them one by one, her attention undividedly focused on the microscope and the evidence she was analyzing. Fibers of some polyester kind. Red fibers. From a backpack perhaps? She adjusted the zoom on the microscope and sighed as she tried to see something more, something else that could take these men off the street.

Mac walked the corridor looking through the photos Danny had sent over, trying to ascertain they hadn't missed anything. He looked up just to see Stella pore over a batch of samples. He took the time to just stand and watch her from a safe distance. The look on her face was that of utter focus. He felt a smile appear on his face as he looked at the determined set of her mouth, the slight crease on her forehead and that glint in her eye that told him she was on to something. That sight was so familiar to him, he had seen her like that a thousand times before but at the same time, he felt like he'd just seen her for the first time. The suddenly frantic beating of his heart told him as much. He shook the thoughts away and decided to push his luck, pulling the glass door to the Trace Lab.

He put a lab coat on and approached her. Sitting with her back to him, she didn't notice him as he came to stand close and looked over her shoulder.

"Anything caught your eye?" he asked innocently in a soft tone so as to not startle her.

She looked up from the microscope and turned her face towards him. He made no move to pull back and they found themselves mere inches from the other's face.

"One thing sure did," she said in a barely audible whisper, her eyes never leaving his. She found herself freeze; the microscope, the samples, the lab all forgotten as she sat there mesmerized by the fire in his eyes.

Her gaze left no space for doubt or hesitation. Her fragrant perfume played with his senses and as her eyes locked with his, everything else ceased to exist. He still was and would always remain the reserved, shy type but ever since he had fallen in love with Stella all those years ago, the difference was that all his reservations and shyness would fall away whenever she was near. This time it was no different.

He leaned further in, closing the distance between them, his lips brushing hers…

"You guys find something?" came a voice from the door.

She pulled back quickly and leaned around Mac's torso, her eyes meeting his with a glimmer of embarrassment for being caught, "Um… yeah. Red polyester fibers."

She cleared her throat and touched her hand to Mac's chest, "I was just telling Detective Taylor that it seems a little out of place. Polyester fibers?"

Mac's eyebrows rose and he opened the file, flipping to the pictures of the crime scene. His eyes scanning them quickly as he searched for the object. He slid one to her and nodded, "What do you see?"

Stella had avoided really looking at the photos. Something about seeing a mother and her two children brutally murdered like this. Mother and the older daughter shot execution style and the youngest lying on the ground with her neck at an awkward angle. She couldn't help but absorb each detail, from the empty eyes of the victims, to how their mouths had been covered in duct tape, and finally how their hands had been bound behind their backs. She shook her head and focused again, searching the photo till she saw it. A red backpack. A child's backpack with an apple and pencils embroidered on it. A large bullet hole on one side of the bag was evidence that it had been used as either a silencer or as a tool to induce fear.

She looked up at him with clear green eyes, "They're using the same gun."

Stella's feet couldn't move fast enough as she moved over to the ballistics lab and checked the bullet from the security guard against the one from the mother. She lifted her head and turned to Mac and Ashley as they came in. "It's a match. Mac, they brought the gun with them."

_XXXXXXXXXXXXXXX_

"I hate this part of the job." Nate flicked his turn signal on and glanced at Flack as he sped towards the hotel with his lights on, "So, New York… you know Stella and Mac pretty well then?"

"Oh yeah." Flack nodded and cleared his throat, "I know it all…" he glanced at him with skeptical eyes, "Why?"

Nate smirked and shrugged, "No reason. Just curious. They seem closer than a boss and a second and I just wanted to know…"

Flack chuckled and eyed the younger male, "You interested in her?"

Nate grinned slightly and shrugged, "She's an incredible woman. I, uh, I don't think I have the guts to try to… she's my boss anyway. I don't think I stand a chance."

"Trust me on this, lesser men than you have tried to get Stella Bonasera. I'm not saying you don't stand a chance but…"

Nate glanced at him after a couple seconds of silence with a heightened brow, "But… what? Something serious? Was she a man before? What?"

Laughter filled the car as Flack listened to Nate try to guess the reason and he shook his head, "Nah, she knows who she wants. I mean, whether or not that works out will remain to be seen." He sighed and shrugged, "I mean, I can't even put a good word in for you, man. I've tried before. She's tough."

He grinned and looked at Flack, "I can see that. Before any of you guys came down, she was like a whole other woman. It seems like ever since Mac arrived, she's more comfortable. It's a nice change."

Flack nodded and smiled, "Not many people have a connection as deep as theirs. No one else's relationship could've survived a distance like this…"

He checked his gun and badge as they pulled into the parking lot and climbed out. Flack's hand clapping Nate's shoulder as they approached the building, "Good luck trying to land her."

Nate laughed and headed in, flashing their badges at the front desk and heading up to the room.

_XXXXXXXXXXXXXXX_

Stella's eyes were buried in the file as she walked, catching up on the case that put these two men behind bars. Angell and a team had uncovered a drug trafficking ring, taking down these two men and 2 others and managing to stop a 100 kilos of cocaine from being distributed. She eyed the photos of the other 2 guys and saw they'd taken a harder sentence and were still in Rikers.

_Thank God for that._

She continued reading about the DA's involvement and shook her head as she approached her office, her body slamming into another's and she stepped back, "I am so sorry."

Mac raised an eyebrow at her, seeing the surprise in her eyes when she saw it was him, and then seemed to blush. He had to convince himself it wouldn't be the best idea to take her into his arms right now and kiss her breath out of her, though there was nothing he wanted to do more. Since yesterday, they were both behaving like hormonal teenagers who had fallen had over heels for each other but were too shy and insecure to do something about it. It was just like after their first date.

_Murderers began their business very early this Tuesday. It was barely six and he had just gotten down to his morning paper when he got a call from the dispatcher. He couldn't leave faster. He knew who else was on call this morning. _

_Arriving at the scene, he quickly put on his professional veneer but couldn't stop his gaze from scanning the crowd of unis and technicians and his heart from skipping a beat when he spotted the mane of curls he was searching for. Their softness and intoxicating smell were still fresh in his memory…and then as if sensing his presence, she turned around and her eyes immediately locked with his. He smiled at her and made his way to his partner._

"_Hi," he said, feeling slightly out of breath for no apparent reason. Her incredible eyes were on him the entire time and as he crouched next to her, he could notice the brilliant yellowish sparks in her eyes; they were there yesterday, too. You had to be really close to notice them, though, just a breath from kissing her... _

"_Hi," she replied, and her eyes flashed as if she could read his thoughts._

_Mac cursed the blush he felt creeping up his cheeks and focused on the body. He cleared his throat. "Who's our vic?" _

"_Jane Doe." She sighed. "Flack's got nothing and I haven't found any ID on her or even chewing gum for that matter."_

_He scrutinized the body with a frown, his sharp eyes looking for any trace that would help them ID the girl. He seemed to find something and reached for a pair of tweezers from his kit when suddenly Stella's perfume, the same she wore yesterday evening, hit his senses with a befuddling strength and the small instrument flew out of his fingers landing at Stella's feet. _

"_Distracted this morning, Mac?" she asked with a mischievous smile._

_They reached for the tweezers at the same time and Mac once again cursed himself for his sudden inexplicable inability to keep it together only because she was near. Her fingers gently grazed his and he felt shivers all the way up to his shoulder._

"_I…I didn't get much sleep last night."_

"_You never get much sleep, Mac," she pointed out. "You sure it's only that?" she pushed with a raised eyebrow._

_His eyes met hers. It was always their way of communicating, more than words were, and the message he now saw in hers left him speechless for a while. They remained like that until a horn sounded somewhere on the street a couple of feet away and shook them out of it. He stood up abruptly, breaking the contact. "I'll start on the scene shots," he said uneasily. "You do the body."_

_She stood up, too, her hand shooting out and catching his wrist before he managed to move away. Mac's gaze went instantly around to see if someone was watching them. Assured that no one was, he let his eyes land on her. She was looking at him with a worried frown._

"_What's wrong, Mac?"_

_The genuine worry on her face elicited a slight smile from him. "Everything's fine, Stella. It's simply that if I continue working here so close to you, I'm not going to get much done."_

"_Why? What's going on?"_

_He shook his head. "I won't be able to hold myself back any longer."_

"_Hold yourself back from _what_, Mac?"_

_He made a step towards her, making sure she was the only recipient of his words. "Kissing you till we're both out of breath."_

_She pulled back and looked him in the eye with a mixture of shock and excitement. "Is that a promise?"_

_He shook his head, a smile still playing on his lips. "Only if you stop distracting me."_

"_I'm not doing anything. It's your fault you get distracted so easily, Detective Taylor," she said with a playful grin._

"_Only when you're around," he admitted. "Which is why I'm going to get these shots right now," he moved away._

"_I'm holding you to that promise, Taylor!" she said after him._

_And boy, did she…_

Mac looked back at Stella and her adorable blush. He couldn't help but chuckle inwardly at the role reversal.

"You need to stop being so distracted at work," he said teasingly.

She narrowed her eyes and raised an eyebrow at the slight upturn of his mouth, "Give it a rest, Mac."

Her smile was quick to show him that she was jus teasing and she cocked her head, "What can I do for you?"

"Was coming to see if you wanted to grab a coffee?"

"Talk the case out?" Her eyebrows lifted and she smiled warmly, "You know I love doing this."

She grabbed her purse and followed him to the elevator, "I was reading up on the original case. You know, you were the CSI on this one right?"

He gave his head a subtle shake and she nodded, "Not surprised. With all the work you do, we should just embroider a 'S' on the front of all your shirts."

She grinned and gave his hand a gentle squeeze before walking with him down the street and letting the breeze rustle her hair. Her eyes watched in enjoyment as happiness surrounded her.

"It's so different here. Not as hard. It's seen it's amount of devastation, more than it's fair amount in fact, but it still manages to stay welcoming."

She paused at the crosswalk with him, waiting for the light to turn so they'd be able to cross, and her eyes watched the family in front of them gleefully. A little curly mopped girl holding her mother and father's hands as she bounced between them, anxious to continue on whatever adventure they were already on. As the light turned, the little girl took off, pulling her parents behind her, giggling the entire time, and turning back to look at her parents with a glowing smile.

A pang of regret echoed through Stella's chest as she watched and finally headed across the street with Mac next to her. Unrealized dreams of a family and a child of her own darted through her mind.

Mac's sharp eyes quickly caught the sudden change in Stella's expression and he followed her gaze. To his amazement, he found it was trained on a little girl with her parents on both sides. The regret in her eyes left no room for guessing. He knew how much she had always wanted a child of her own, and knew beyond all doubt what a great mother she would make. He had once been faced with this decision but his insecurity and budding career stopped him from making the right choice. He wouldn't let this happen again. As he looked at Stella, he realized he was ready to make the right choice, and there was no one he wanted more to make it with than her.

Her voice brought him out of his head, and they continued their idle walk discussing the original case's evidence, with Stella occasionally asking about the trial. She paused outside a coffee shop and nodded towards it with her head, "This alright?"

"You tell me."

She smiled and opened the door, heading in and knowing he'd follow. She ordered them their two coffees and paid for them, against his wishes. "Mac, it's a cup of coffee. When we finish this case, you can take me to dinner and we'll call it even."

She winked at him and her bright smile illuminated her face as she accepted her change and handed him his coffee. She glanced at him as they stood at the station with assorted creams, sugars, and other additives, watching him for a moment before finishing her concoction and replacing the lid on it. "I'm glad you had to stay."

Her eyes met his and she gave him a warm smile. He reciprocated it and shook his head with that boyish look of embarrassment on his face. "So am I."

She placed a chaste kiss on his cheek before looping her arm in his and leaving the little shop. The walk back to the lab was filled with quiet conversation about how much catching up this place REALLY had ahead of it and how much she missed all the things that New York offered.

She stepped into the elevator at the lab, her arm still in his and sighed softly, "I've been thinking."

"Oh?"

She chuckled nervously and bit her lip. It sounded ridiculous, even in her head, to admit that she was feeling butterflies in her abdomen while flirting with her own husband but as she glanced at him and saw his blue eyes attentively gazing at her, that's all she could feel.

"The couch isn't good for you. I feel bad seeing you like this."

His posture drooped and he nodded with a frown growing on his face, "Do you want me to go back to the hotel?"

Her eyes widened as she looked up at him and shook her head vehemently, "NO. Not at all. I was…" she blushed slightly and turned to face him in the elevator, holding his hand in hers, "I was going to suggest that tonight, we could try the bed?"

Mac stared at her. He could see how nervous she was and he felt a painful pang realizing how much they still had to catch up on. At the same time, though, there was a feeling of pleasant anxiety at all the things they still had before them. They were on the right path, and they were both once again heading in the same direction.

She grinned shyly and shrugged, her body showing just how nervous she was suggesting it. She licked her lips, "You don't have to, if you don't want to… but I'd…" she dropped her head as her cheeks went red, "I'd really like you to."

He cupped her face between his hands and placed a soft kiss on the tip of her nose that made her chuckle and loosen up a bit. Then he looked her in the eye. "I'd like that, too."

_XXXXXXXXXXXXXXX_

Nate's knuckles rapt on the door of the hotel suite, and after about a minute of waiting the door opened and the DA stood behind it, the chain keeping the door from opening all the way.

"Yes?"

"NYPD and NOPD. We need to talk to you." Flack and Nate's badges glistened in the hallway lighting and the man shut the door. The chain could be heard disengaging and then the door opened fully, revealing a room in disarray and a DA who was still clearly shaken.

Flack pulled his gun and came in, checking to make sure there was no one else here before turning to look at the DA, "What the hell happened here?"

DA Thomas Monroe looked at him and sighed, "I wish I knew. I just came back to find it this way."

Nate's eyes checked the man over; his blonde hair was mussed, hazed over brown eyes, and his clothing looked disheveled. "We've been trying to locate you since last yesterday, Mr. Monroe. Want to tell us where you were?"

He nodded and ran a hand through his hair, "I went to a bar. Needed to get away. I got the call yesterday about my family. I couldn't handle it sober. I went to the bar and drank until I passed out."

Flack came up next to him, "Any idea where you went after that?"

The man shook his head and shrugged, "I don't know. I have no idea."

"Alright, you're coming with us." Nate took the man by the arm but he pulled back.

"Did I do something wrong?"

"No, but if you want to stay alive, you need to come with us." Nate nodded and glanced at Flack, "Call Stella and Mac?"

Flack nodded, "Yeah, they're going to love this."

* * *

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**Have a nice weekend!**


	6. Hide And Seek

**Happily Never After**

******Disclaimer: **We own nothing. Nada. Null.

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**Chapter 6 – Hide And Seek **

"You think he's telling the truth?"

Ashley studied the bed in the hotel room and frowned before turning to Stella and Mac, her long brunette hair pulled back, "Call me crazy, but he goes on conferences all the time, leaving his wife and children alone in New York, and no one other than me is suspicious that the guy's having an affair."

Stella's sighed and shrugged, "Not all marriages are happy ones, Ashley. Even if he was having an affair, it wouldn't be right of us to judge him based on that. If he was escaping his marriage by traveling then that was his choice."

Ashley's eyebrows knit together as she bagged another item from the room and shook her head, "That doesn't make sense. If you love someone enough to get married, you should have to tough it out. Escaping and cheating and all that, it seems so wrong."

With his back to them, Mac froze with his penlight in hand listening to Ashley. She was young and her opinions verged on the extreme but that didn't make her any less right. He turned towards Stella, waiting for her reply.

Stella's eyes sought out Mac's for a moment, and her eyes dropped in regret as she spoke in a quieter tone, "I never said it was the best plan… running shouldn't ever be the answer…

Reading all the hidden meanings and undertones of pain in her voice, Mac felt a sudden urge to take her into his arms and kiss all of it away. He wanted to tell her it was his fault and she was right, it was he who had escaped first and what she did was justified and he would never hold it against her. His escape had brought them to the edge, but paradoxically, her escape had given them a second chance.

He continued to stare at Stella, and managed a smile at her despite the somber thoughts occupying his mind. She seemed to understand, as she always did, and smiled back.

Completely oblivious to the nerve she had struck and the silent conversation going on behind her back, Ashley sighed and photographed the chaos surrounding the trio, "I just don't understand men. When they want a woman they shower her with attention and everything, doing whatever it takes to get them; but once they have a woman, they neglect her and take her for granted."

"Not all men." Stella cast a glance at Mac with a gentle smile and wink before returning to the task of bagging and tagging several broken shards of what used to be a lamp.

"Most of them." Ashley nodded thoughtfully and smirked, glancing at Mac, "I bet you're one of the good ones, Detective Taylor."

Mac glanced up from the bed he was inspecting, trying to put on a neutral expression on his face. "I'm…um, just a regular guy," he said uneasily.

"No woman in her right mind would call you 'regular'," Ashley pressed and Stella chanced a look at her husband, knowing perfectly well how uncomfortable he was getting. "Don't you agree, Stella?"

The question caught her by surprise; she didn't expect the tables to turn this abruptly. Feeling Mac's glance bore into her and noticing a slight upwards twitch of his mouth, she looked at him and shrugged. "I guess he's not that bad." She shot him a wry grin, resuming collecting. "Not my type, though," she said teasingly and was rewarded when he raised an eyebrow at her.

Not in on their private round of teasing and oblivious to all that was left unspoken, Ashley glanced at her and furrowed her brow, "I'm serious, Stella."

She looked back at Mac with sincerity in her eyes and smiled warmly, "You seem like one of the only good ones left. I bet women in New York just eat up guys like you."

She nodded warmly and shrugged, "You probably have a little black book of numbers that could rival Nate's."

Mac looked at her incredulously, and then his gaze shifted to Stella, a silent cry for help in his eyes.

She covered her mouth as she laughed a little harder and then lifted her head, holding his eyes and smiling. He wasn't coming off the hook this easy. This was way too much fun, "She has a point there, Mac. I'm sure you're just itching to get back to all those city women."

Her eyes twinkled with laughter as she giggled again and tucked a tendril of hair behind her ear, "Has the dating scene changed much since I moved?"

She watched as the tips of his ears turned red, followed by the tell-tale flush of his neck. She smiled warmly and sighed with another soft chuckle before finishing up with her collection and sealing the back, her initials securely placed over the seal. "Ashley, why don't you take the evidence back to lab? I want to hear what the DA has to say."

Ashley nodded, looking from Stella to Mac with a glint of hope in her eyes.

"Will you be coming with me, Detective Taylor?"

Mac's eyes flicked to the eager brunette and then to Stella. She was looking at him with a slightly raised eyebrow, a silent question in her eyes.

"No. I'd like to hear Monroe's testimony, too."

Ashley nodded and grabbed the bags, heading down to the car and leaving Stella alone in the room with Mac, a teasing grin spreading on her lips, "Someone has an admirer. Want her number for your black book?"

Now that they were alone, Mac allowed himself to loosen up a little. He shot her a sideways glance. "Would you be jealous if I did?"

"You do know I carry a gun?"

He raised an eyebrow at her. "I thought I wasn't your type."

"That's because I don't have a _type_," she turned to face him. "There's only you," she put a hand to his cheek.

A warm smile spread over her face as she saw him close his eyes for a moment at her touch. When he opened them, his intense blue gaze focused on her.

"If I tell you the same thing, will you believe me?"

"So you're sure there's no black book?"

"Even if there was, there would be only one name in it."

"I hope not Angie Jolie's," she smirked.

He rolled his eyes. "Let's see how Flack's doing with the elusive DA."

_XXXXXXXXXXXX_

"So again, let's go over this. You got the call from Detective Messer at what time?"

"About 8 PM. He called my hotel phone and I was just so upset and didn't want to talk to anyone so I left my phone here and went out."

"And you went to what bar again?" Flack sighed as he tried to garner more information from the DA, unsuccessfully. This guy, for being a successful prosecutor, had the memory of a gnat.

"I can't remember. I just… Why is any of this important? I didn't kill my family." Thomas Monroe's voice grew louder as he stood up and stared down Don. "I just found out that my wife and two daughters were killed. Why are you interrogating me instead of looking for the guys who did it?"

"We know you didn't kill them, and we're working on locating them, but your life is in danger now." Flack held his ground, his stance battling the one opposite him, "We need to make sure that you are protected, sir. Now, if you'd like to sit, I'd like to do my job and make sure I can do that to the best of my ability."

Monroe shook his head and moved away from the detective heading past Nate and then turned around, "I can't remember anything other than feeling like my heart was ripped from my chest and thrown onto the ground. The bastards took everything I had in the world. My little Dana… she was 9. My daughter, Jenny… she was 15. I've been married…" he paused as his voice cracked and slid down the wall, his hands resting over his knees as he dropped his head, "I was married to Amy for 18 years." He shook his head and knit his hands together, "I don't know how I'm going to go on…"

Flack nodded and felt all too familiar feelings creep into his mind. _Jess._ He walked over and slid down the wall opposite the DA, "You're gonna go on. You're going to move on and it'll be ok. We're here to protect you."

_XXXXXXXXXXXX_

Stella studied the DA against the wall and she sighed softly, hearing his soft sobs echo towards her and the three men surrounding her. She glanced into the room at the cleaning women as they re-situated the room, before looking at Don and nodding him over to her.

"He have anything helpful to add to the investigation?" Stella asked, her work facade secured back in place as she addressed Flack.

"Nothin'. He's a wreck. Losin' his family is killin' the guy." Don shrugged and stuffed his hands in his pockets.

Stella sighed and glanced at the man sitting against the wall with complete anguish written on his face. She looked at Flack and touched his forearm, "You okay handling this one?"

He stared into her knowing eyes and nodded, "Gives me a reason to talk to him. I know what he's going through."

A sympathetic smile danced across her face as she rubbed his arm gently and sighed softly. The mute communications being sent between the two, an indicator of how close they had remained.

"You want us to stay with him?" Nate's voice piped up from his position next to Flack as he studied them.

"I think that's the best idea, yes. Mac?"

Mac had stayed silent until now, allowing Stella to handle this and glad for her comforting presence. He was never good at handling emotional breakdowns and trauma. He saw the pain in Flack's eyes, watched the sobbing DA, and knew what they were both going through. He had been there but he was still hard pressed at tapping into those experiences. It was always Stella who had the right words, and her innate warmth and sympathetic nature did the rest.

He met her questioning gaze and nodded his consent. She nodded back to the guys and smiled slightly, "Call if anything comes up. You two don't leave his side. Got it?"

Flack nodded and rocked on his heels for a moment before heading to the DA, and then ushering him into the room. Nate glanced between Mac and Stella before clearing his throat, "Hey, Mac…"

He gestured to Stella and sighed anxiously, "You mind if I talk to Stella for a moment?"

Stella's eyes widened slightly and she nodded to Mac that she'd be fine with a hesitant smile before following Nate to a quiet corner of the room, her head tilted and her arms crossed over her chest as she listened to him speak. She couldn't help the smile that spread on her lips as he fidgeted for a moment.

"What do you need, Nate?"

"I… was just wondering if maybe after this case… you'd like to get dinner or something." He shifted his weight a little and shrugged, "You know, with me."

Her eyebrows rose toward her hairline and she smiled slightly, "Are you…"

He nodded and chuckled slightly, "I talked to Flack about it. He said you were sort of working on something with someone, but… I just wanted to give it a shot. You know, you're… you're a special woman and I'd like to get to know you a little better."

She sighed and shook her head, her hand touching his shoulder gently, "You're very sweet but I'm…" she glanced over her shoulder at Mac with a meaningful smile and turned back to Nate, "I'm already seeing someone."

He nodded, "Sounds serious."

She smiled and nodded in return, "It is. We're…" _married. _Her mind screamed to tell him before she shrugged and smiled, "I'm not interested, Nate. The man I'm with is… he's everything I want. But thank you."

Her smile was genuine and heartfelt as she touched his cheek before turning away and heading back to Mac with a look of complete amusement on her face.

From where Mac was standing, he couldn't make out the exact words but he felt his fingers instinctively curl into fists seeing how close to Stella Nate was standing and the blush on his face that was a clear indicator they weren't talking shop. Then she put a hand on his cheek and he was about to step in when she turned away from Nate and headed his way, giving him that megawatt smile he found irresistible. He felt his temper cool down immediately.

Stella nodded towards the elevator and threw one more wave to Nate over her shoulder before leading Mac to the large steel doors and pressing the button.

"What was that about?" he asked trying to sound neutral.

She smiled at him and scratched the back of her neck, "He asked me out."

The look of mortification on his face was enough to push her over the edge and the giggles she'd been fighting since Nate's proposal began to escape. She nodded and patted his shoulder before stepping into the box and letting the doors seal them away from prying eyes.

She turned to him and smirked, "Apparently, your wife is still quite the hot commodity on the market."

"You said 'no', I hope," he said somewhat stiffly.

She propped her hands on her hips. "Look who's jealous now."

He shot her a sideways glance. "You know Marines are taught to kill with one move?"

"That's a relief." She rolled her eyes. "Now if I find Nate's dead body in a dumpster tomorrow, I'll know you at least didn't strain yourself too much."

"You wouldn't find the body," he deadpanned.

Her green eyes met his in a stare of complete disbelief as she lightly smacked his chest, "Mac Taylor, you are impossible." Her eyes dragged over him, "Why would I ever settle for him when I can have you?"

The fire in her eyes seemed to quench the jealous flames shooting up his veins, and he held his breath.

She tightened her fingers on the lapel of his jacket and leaned up, brushing her lips over his for a heated moment, before pulling away with a smile as the doors opened.

He followed her out with a shake of his head. This was so much like their first weeks together as a couple. Stealing kisses in elevators, flirting in corridors, sneaking away at lunch breaks, closing the locker room from the inside... They simply couldn't get enough of each other back then. It was like he was seventeen again and had just fallen in love for the first time. He hadn't felt like that about any woman since college, even with Claire it was different. Stella brought out his strongly guarded and deeply buried lighter side; it seemed that before they'd fallen for each other, he was colour-blind. He looked at her gracious silhouette a few steps ahead of him. With her, he could see the rainbow again.

_XXXXXXXXXXXX_

Ashley ran a frustrated hand through her hair and stared at the computer screen. She allowed herself a discreet yawn and made a mental note to get a new coffee. Her sixth. The whole team was on their toes, working almost non-stop ever since the NY detectives showed with their high-profile case and even higher expectations.

Usually it was much slower and quieter at the lab but Ashley found she liked the quick pace and the constant turns in the investigation. She liked how they did it in New York. And she liked who did it. Her thoughts wandered to one Mac Taylor. He was in a league of his own – a living CSI legend, handsome, with a sense of humour, and to top it all off, he seemed to be a normal, good guy, if slightly socially awkward. She meant what she'd said to Stella earlier about him. What she failed to mention in front of her boss was she'd eat him up just like the NY women.

She continued staring at the monitor, not really seeing any of it. She had the results memorized by now anyway and they still didn't give anything conclusive. With resignation, she made to stand up and get that coffee when she spotted Mac stepping into the trace lab.

_Speak of the devil,_ she thought wryly before plastering a neutral expression onto her face.

She took a deep breath seeing he was heading her direction. _Coffee will wait._

"Nothing on Monroe's clothes or other belongings, sir," she reported and saw his lips quirk upwards in an amused smile as he approached her workplace.

"How did you know that was what I was going to ask?" he asked. "And it's Mac, Ashley."

"Right." She felt a slight blush creeping up her face. "So…it's obviously something to do with the case, though I wish it didn't," she added with a small smile. "And since that's the key evidence right now, I thought you'd be interested in that. And you also wanted to check up how we work around here and what's the entry level of expertise. Seeing that I'm the youngest member of the team, I am the most informative sample person on the lowest level."

Mac chuckled. "Everything true," he nodded. "I see Stella taught you well."

"She's the best, si…Mac," she corrected herself, cursing the sudden tremble in her voice.

Mac allowed himself a sigh at that. She sure was, and he missed it. With every hour, he was more and more impressed by how much Stella was able to do with so little here at the lab, what perfect staff choices she made and how well she led and taught her team.

He caught Ashley staring at him and he realized he'd zoned out for a moment. Gosh, he had it bad. He, the master of concentration and shutting his private life off when it came to work, was suddenly stealing kisses in elevators, flirting in evidence analysis, and when he wasn't doing that, he was thinking about her all the time.

"I mean, apart from you, of course," Ashley said thinking that his sudden silence was due to a bruised ego.

"There is no such thing as the best CSI," he corrected her gently. "It's not a competition. We're all here to give our best to our country and try to make it just a bit safer by catching criminals."

Ashley looked at him transfixed. There was such strength and conviction in his voice, and such true love for the country shining through his every word, that it garnered only the deepest respect.

Mac smiled at her warmly. "And now, what about those clothes?"

She gulped, not sure how she would be able to present her findings to him with her heart-rate nearing critical as it was now.

She tore her eyes from him and focused on the computer screen. "Basically, we didn't find anything in Monroe's room. He's clean. No gunpowder, no epithelials, nothing that would suggest he had something to do with his family's death."

"That's something."

"Yeah, but it doesn't bring us any closer to finding your two dealers."

"Maybe it does. Everything's connected," Mac said thoughtfully leaning in slightly to take a better look at the screen and Ashley held her breath. "Can you call up the GCMS analysis of that fiber found at the car they kidnapped from the airport?"

"Um, sure," she said and did as he asked, wondering what he was thinking. When it came to business, she noticed, he had a totally unreadable poker face. "It shows an unusually high contamination of copper, cadmium and vanadium…"

"…which is characteristic for post-Katrina regions," Mac added and Ashley nodded. He seemed to be a step ahead of her every time. She was starting to see for herself how well deserved his reputation was.

"Precisely," she called up a map of New Orleans, divided into districts. "Still, this particular combination can be found in almost all districts within Lake Pontchartrain's former flooding area. It's thousands of homes and tens thousands of people, even now after many of them left in Katrina's aftermath."

Mac nodded his head, slightly pouting his lips in thought. They were in a city which had suffered severe flooding and still struggled with its devastating ramifications, and there was one characteristic thing that could be found in such humid, contaminated areas… He put on a lab coat, snapped on a pair of gloves and localised the fiber sample from the kidnapped car. With surgical precision, he cut a small part of it with a scalpel and put it in a separate Petri dish. His eyes wandered searchingly over the table only for a short while before he located the shelf with various chemical reagents.

Ashley watched with fascination as he chose a couple with that incredibly handsome focused frown and applied the mixture onto the sample. Reacting with it, the chemicals turned a dirty red and she noticed a satisfied smile on Mac's face. He put the mixture back under the microscope lens and nodded to himself, confirming his finding. Then he looked up and met Ashley's reverent gaze.

"What do you know about mold, Ashley?"

Her brow furrowed, and she looked at him bewildered. "It…festers on walls, is incredibly ugly and I used to have nightmares of it attacking me as a kid?"

Mac shot her an amused glance. "That's precisely what this little guy did to Alexander Fleming," he remarked motioning for her to take a look at the sample.

Suddenly it began to dawn on her. When she looked in the lens, she became sure.

"_Penicillium_," she exclaimed with a growing smile. "It fell on Fleming's head and samples when he was investigating bacteria properties."

"Very good," he praised. "What else do you see?"

"Well…" she took another look at the fungus. "The spore clusters are relatively undamaged, which means it isn't old…" she looked up at him. "Had to be transferred recently."

Mac nodded and moved to the computer. He scanned the sample and started a detailed chemical analysis. "It's not just any _penicillium_," he looked at the screen. "It's _penicilium crustosum_."

"Someone here suffering from a bacterial infection?" came Stella's voice from the entrance.

"Hopefully our perps," Mac said turning around and watching her make her way towards them.

"Detective Taylor…Mac…" Ashley corrected herself, not looking Mac in the eye. Stella heard the slight tremor in the voice of her usually cool young CSI and raised her eyebrow while glancing at Mac. "…has just found the possible connection between New Orleans and the perps," she reported proud to be a part of it, and moved the computer screen for Stella to see.

"Why doesn't that surprise me?" she said, grinning at Mac. "I wasn't kidding about putting that 'S' on all your shirts," she whispered wryly into his ear, leaning discreetly into him as she came to stand beside him to look at the screen.

Mac felt a shiver run down his spine as her breath caressed his skin. He cleared his throat and quickly focused on the fungus image displayed on the screen.

"Combined with the chemical compounds Ashley found on the fiber, it gives us only one place in New Orleans where this particular type of fungus can be found…" he said transferring the chemical analysis results onto a map of the city.

"…Ninth Ward," Stella finished looking at the results. "Great," she frowned. "I'll order police patrols and a special search unit but from what I know, it's still more a graveyard than a livable district…which means lots of abandoned houses and a perfect place to hide and not be found," she summed up.

_XXXXXXXXXXXX_

The DA moved in front of them again and Flack turned to him with frustration on his face. He watched him pass a couple more times before his hand shot out and caught the guy's wrist. his voice was soft as he looked up at him, "'ey, Monroe, why don't ya sit down and relax. Nothing's going to happen. We're here to make sure that you're safe."

"I still can't believe it. They got Amy… and Jen… and, God, they killed Dana." He shook his head and sat down on the bed with his head in his hands. His body started to shake as he cried. Flack stood and moved over to him, touching his shoulder, "You got the best CSIs I know working this. They're going to get them and make sure they never get out, and right now, you got us protecting you. You couldn't be safer."

"I don't care about being safe, Detective!" Monroe exclaimed, anguish in his voice. "I want to break those bastards' necks and watch them writhe in pain!"

"Believe me, you don't," Don said, swallowing hard. The face of Simon Cade swam against his eyelids as he closed his eyes, allowing himself a deep breath. He couldn't let this get to him and open the barely healed wounds. He needed his focus, and he needed his head straight.

They weren't able to save this man's family back in NY and the least he could do was to protect his life. He was here to do a job and to fulfill his obligation as a friend to Mac and Stella. He was here to help solve their problems, not to be another one for them.

"You don't," he repeated more forcefully, the DA's gaze meeting the steely blue of his eyes.

There was something in Flack's gaze that sobered Monroe up a little. He finally sat down.

_XXXXXXXXXXXX_

"Hey, Stell."

She stopped mid-stride down the hallway and headed into the computer lab, coming up behind Brandon and catching Mac's eyes in the hallway.

"I got a location on the perps. They're at Mother's Restaurant on Poydras Street."

She nodded to Mac to head towards the elevator and gave Brandon's shoulder a squeeze with a soft smile, "You're the best."

She met Mac in the hallway and pressed the button at the elevators, anxiously waiting for it to arrive, "Got something?"

"Brandon got a location for the drug dealers. Diner downtown."

"Just us going?"

She smirked and pulled her phone out, "I'll have your girlfriend meet us there with back-up."

Mac frowned, and then he looked left and right. Having made sure there were no prying eyes trained on them, he took her by the elbow, and pushed them both onto the emergency stairway.

Stella looked at him wide-eyed, her breath caught in her throat by his sudden actions. "Mac, what…?" she managed to utter before his lips crushed hers hungrily. She moaned half in surprise, half in pleasure and felt him smile against her lips. Her hands instinctively wandered up to settle on his nape and bring him closer to her.

Mac allowed himself to revel in the velvety softness of her mouth on his and the touch of her fingers as she gently tugged at his hair, producing additional sparks of pure electricity that shot through his whole body in hot flares. It warmed his heart that she still trusted him enough to not protest to his unexpected actions but give herself up to him without a blink. He deepened the kiss, making her cling to him even more.

Finally, he pulled back with regret and chuckled lightly seeing her move with him to prolong the kiss just a bit more. Then she opened her eyes and raised an eyebrow at him.

"Still jealous?" he asked.

With a soft smile playing on her lips, she put a hand to his slightly flushed cheek. "Mac, I'll always be," she said looking him deep in the eye. "But thanks for the make out session," she added wryly. "I feel much better now."

He shook his head, letting out a small chuckle. "Glad to be of service."

"And now, before you swept me off my feet, I seem to remember we had something to do," she said with a half-smile.

_XXXXXXXXXXXX_

A knock sounded at the door and all three men's heads lifted. Flack headed over to the door and called through it, "Yeah?"

"Room service."

Flack looked back at Nate and then to DA Monroe. Monroe shook his head that he hadn't ordered anything and Flack leaned back, "I think you got the wrong room, man."

"I don't think so."

A bullet came flying through the door and Flack and Nate pulled their pieces. Backing up and standing in front of the DA as the door kicked in and the two perps came in.

"He's got body guards now."

"Ain't gonna help much."

"All we want is him. You two don't need to get hurt. Just give us Monroe and it'll be good."

"That's not going to happen." Nate's voice was strong but it was evident he wasn't prepared for this quite yet. His eyes glanced at Flack sideways and he steadied his position.

Flack caught the glance and studied the two perps, trying to take control of the situation. He stepped forward slightly, "Ok, let's take it easy. Listen, this is going to turn out a lot worse for you than for us. You guys are in some serious trouble. Murder and kidnapping…. Hijacking a plane. You guys don't wanna do something you'll regret even more."

"I think we do." The one pulled the safety on his gun and looked Flack in the eye, "We're taking him with us."

_XXXXXXXXXXXX_

They pulled into the restaurant and stepped into the building, eying the customers and looking for the perps. She pulled her hand away from her weapon and shook her head to the team of backup with her. "ΤΙΠΟΤΑ," she spoke in a soft voice to Mac as she shook her head. She called Brandon as they stepped back into the parking lot, "They're not here, Brandon. Are they moving?"

"No, Stell, they're right there. You should be on top of them."

"Brandon… call the cell."

She hung up and held her hand up for her team to be silent. The ringing was heard and all guns went up as they headed around the building to the back dumpster. She flipped the lid and glanced in, seeing the phone on top of a black garbage bag. "Shit."

She kicked the dumpster and sighed as she turned away with her hand in her curls while muttering Grecian curses under her breath. She looked at Mac with frustration on her face and grit her jaw while shaking her head. "Damn it, Mac."

"STELL!"

She turned around at the call from Ashley and ran over to the vehicle as Ashley stared at the radio, _"ATTENTION ALL UNITS. SHOTS FIRED AT THE OMNI ROYAL. BELIEVED TO BE AN OFFICER INVOLVED."_

Stella's eyes widened as she turned to Mac, "Mac, that's..."

"Don and Nate," his jaw clenched as he looked at her; things had just gone from bad to worse.

* * *

**A/N: ****Sorry for the cliffie (not really, though;). If you liked this, you know what to do now;) We truly appreciate feedback from you and thanks in advance! **

**Have a great weekend!**


	7. Pushed To The Brink

**Happily Never After**

**Disclaimer: **Unfortunately we still own nothing. Nada. Null.

**A/N: **A special thanks to _MARNIC, Ballettmaus and Blackrose538_ for your fantastic reviews to the last chapter, and to all the ppl that read it! It's really great to know other ppl apart from ourselves read and enjoy what we write;)

Enjoy chapter 7! Three more to go.

* * *

**Chapter 7 – Pushed to the Brink**

The street at the Omni Hotel was a picture of controlled chaos. Unis and SWAT officers were leading out the guests and staff, protective barriers were being set up at both ends of the street and more NOPD white-and-blues were pulling up every minute. Among them was a black SUV that swiftly maneuvered around them and ground to a screeching halt mere feet from the Mobile Command Centre.

Stella and Mac jumped out of the car at the same moment, strapping on flak jackets as they went. Ashley met them half-way to the command centre. Her face was ashen but her jaw set and expression focused.

"Status report, Ash," Stella demanded without any preamble. This was no time for niceties.

"The SWAT and our unis are leading out the last guests and staff. Nate and Don were ambushed in Monroe's room. It's on the second floor, third window to the right," she motioned in the appropriate direction. "Witnesses confirmed there were two armed men in the corridor. There were several shots fired. We don't know how Don and Nate are doing. They aren't answering their phones."

Stella felt her stomach do a nervous flip as she glanced at Mac. He was as calm and composed as ever, but she could see the tautness in his stance and concentrated frown. He was like a tiger ready to pounce, taking all in and probably already formulating a plan. He was a born leader and she admired that about him.

"How many people have we got here?"

"Ten SWAT snipers have taken position on the roofs of surrounding buildings and we have a whole unit at our disposal, there are more then fifty unis on site and more are coming."

"Detective Bonasera?" came a voice from behind. A surly man wearing SWAT black was making his way towards them. "Lieutenant Styles, I'm in charge of SWAT here," he introduced himself, extending his hand to Stella.

Stella nodded, shaking his hand. "This is Detective Taylor of the NYPD," she motioned at Mac.

Styles nodded again, and both men exchanged swift handshakes. "Now that we've got niceties covered, let me just say that I don't like this-" He raised his hand, seeing Stella already opening her mouth to protest. "-but considering it's your men in there," he nodded in both Mac and Stella's direction. "And your investigation, I'm prepared to let you lead this operation. But my team is part of any action you come up with and I have a say in it."

"Fair enough," Stella nodded.

"We don't have any real concrete info," the lieutenant continued. "We're gonna need your guys for that. We're stretched for personnel as it is, and most of my guys are positioned on the roofs."

"I am not sending another member of my team into that building until I am sure of the safety of the two I already have in there," she stated categorically.

"Detective Bonasera-"

"NO. You listen to me, those two men in there are two of the best I have. I am not sending in another member of my team until I know that they are safe."

"Listen, detective, my people are on sniper positions and they're the only ones who can do that. If you have people that can fill in for them there, then I'll give you your reconnaissance squad," he proposed snidely. "Though I highly doubt any of you could even use such a weapon."

Irked by Styles' lack of competence and his nonchalant attitude towards Stella, especially since he was in the wrong here, Mac stepped in. "It's not our problem how stretched for people you are," he said angrily. "It's your job to ensure both safety and intel here, lieutenant. Detective Bonasera's in charge and if she wants intel, you give her intel. How you do it is up to you but _you do it _without questioning it."

"Maybe that's so in the _great city of New York_," Styles said snidely. "Down here, we do things differently. For starters, we don't act cowboy style and recklessly endanger the lives of our people."

"Those people are trained to do just that," Mac snapped angrily. "And don't tell me about endangering the lives of _your_ people. _Our _people already are in danger and they need help."

"I do not appreciate being told how to do my job, detective."

"Maybe if you did it right, I wouldn't have to tell you," Mac shot back.

"I don't need…" Styles began.

"Enough," Stella shut him up. "We don't have time for this, lieutenant! Damn it, just do your job! You wanna be part of ANY ACTION here? You send one of your team in or get someone on a scope right now. I am NOT sending another innocent life into that building. Am I clear?"

She gripped Mac's hand fiercely, drawing her strength and ability to stand her ground from him and let her hand tremble in his, knowing he'd never condemn her for being concerned about their friend and her co-worker in the situation they were in.

The SWAT leader eyed her steely gaze and Mac's set expression. Knowing it was a lost battle for him, he sighed before reaching to the radio on his shoulder and holding the button, "Daniels, get on your scope. I want to know status of the situation. Now."

He looked at them and sighed before turning and heading back to the SWAT van. Stella sighed and grabbed her phone, "Brandon… Brandon… No, I don't know what's going on, but I need your help. Right. You're going to hack into their computers, I need you ot find out if their security cameras are web based and if so I need confirmation on who's in there with my guys and if you can see into the room. This is your number one priority right now, are we clear?"

She hung up and frantically met Mac's gaze, "What the hell are we going to do Mac?"

_XXXXXXXXXXXXX_

"SHUT UP and put your guns on the floor." The two perps moved closer and gestured for Flack and Nate to do as they ordered. Flack nodded and complied with their orders, before being forced to his knees and having his hands tied behind his back with tape.

Nate shook his head and stayed in front of the DA.

"This one wants to be a hero." The man laughed and turned away for a moment before raising his gun and holding it in front of Nate's forehead, "Drop. The. Gun."

The gun slid to the floor as the guy forced him onto his knees as well and bound him the way the other man had bound Flack, before looking up at the DA. "You messed with the wrong two guys."

_XXXXXXXXXXXXX_

Stella's phone buzzed to life at her hip, her eyes widened seeing Flack's name on the caller ID, "Don?"

"Not quite, Bonasera."

She gripped Mac's arm, her eyes widening as she looked at him, "I want to talk to Detective Flack."

"I don't care what you want," came the snide answer. "This is our show. Here's the deal: you take your cops, your press, your helicopters, all that and get lost. We have some business to finish here and then we'll be gone."

"You have two of my men in there. These cops aren't going anywhere until I can be assured of their safety."

She listened as the phone seemed to be shuffled around, her eyes narrowing as she listened for either of her guys' voices. "Stell…"

"Don, thank God. Is everyone alright in there?"

"Yeah, we're good. Stell, don't you dare give him what he wants. Don't you do it. This piece of-" the smack sounded through the phone and Stella winced at the sound before hearing more muffled sounds and then another bout of heavy breathing.

"Stella…"

She released a heavy breath, "God, Nate. Don't antagonize these guys. Is the DA with you?"

"Yeah."

"Is he alive?"

"Yeah."

She nodded slowly and waved the SWAT leader over, "Nate just stay calm, ok? We're gonna get you guys out of there."

The phone line went dead and she looked at Mac with relieved eyes, "They're all ok, for now. We need to get inside there…"

"My guy's got a view," Styles informed them both. "One's in the hall with a gun to a guy's head. Not one of your men."

She nodded, "That would be our New York DA."

"You want my guy to take him down?"

She shook her head, "No. We wait for their move. I want these guys alive. They're messing with my team and I'm not letting them off this easily."

The lieutenant nodded and went off, barking out orders into his headset.

Mac looked at her with a frown. "Stella, by now they know we have them surrounded. They might start getting desperate. Their next _move _might involve shooting. We either go in or take a shot."

"Mac, those are my guys in there, I am not risking…"

"One of those guys in there is mine," he cut her off. "This is no time to argue about that, Stella. We both have lots to lose here. The longer we wait, the worst the losses will be."

She looked at him, her jaw set.

He shook his head. "Don't make me pull rank, Stella."

"This is MY jurisdiction, Mac. I'm pulling rank. We're not going in. I am not risking more lives."

"The only way to fix this is to get in there."

"Says you."

"Stella, I don't want to endanger any more lives just as much as you do." He rubbed his forehead, trying to calm himself down. "But we've come to the point where we don't have a choice. It's out of our hands."

"Certainly out of _your _hands, Mac!" she snapped. " This is my jurisdiction, MY case. And I'm making an executive decision – you're off!"

Mac watched incredulously as she turned from him and headed over to the SWAT vehicle, leaning in and beginning to brainstorm with the team, her focus clearly on getting the guys out of there alive. Demand request procedures were discussed and as they set up a perimeter and basic strategy, the fight weighed heavy on the back of her mind and she pulled back for a moment, grabbing a bottle of water and growling softly. "Damn, him," she muttered softly and rubbed her temple, a small smile coming to her lips as she thought about all their other fights and how trivial they seemed compared to this.

_"Damn it, Mac."_

_"Stella, what do you want me to say? I'm sorry."_

_"That was my case, Mac!" She glared at him as he sat at his desk and sighed, "Stella, Sheldon's case had evidence that lined up with yours. I made an executive decision for him to…"_

_"Yeah? Well now, I'M making an executive decision, Mac. YOU can sleep on the couch tonight."_

_"Stella…"_

_"I will see you at home." She turned and breezed out of his office in a whirl of curls. He sighed and closed his eyes, running his hand over his face. _

_"Bad time?"_

_Mac's eyes lifted to the door as Flack came in with a lead on their case and the two left, Stella's fury over losing her case forgotten as he went back to work._

_Later that night he came into the apartment and dropped his stuff at the door. He'd left the office late after a wild goose chase with the suspect and interrogation and he was positive Stella would be asleep by the time he got him. He walked into the kitchen and noticed she'd left him a note about dinner being in the fridge. He opened the door and sure enough, she had put all the leftovers from her home cooked meal in containers and it was waiting for him. He grabbed a beer and undid his dress shirt as he got comfortable, after the day he'd had, he wasn't hungry, just tired. He took a long pull form his beer as he headed into the living room and saw his pillow and a blanket on the couch along with a note from her telling him to sleep well._

_He closed his eyes and sighed. He'd forgotten their fight and her promise of an 'executive decision'. He kicked off his shoes and set his beer down on the table by the couch before heading to the bedroom to get his pajama bottoms, but when he got to the door he tried the handle and it didn't move._

_"Stella…" _

_"Everything you need is on the couch, Mac."_

_"Stella, I need something to sleep in."_

_Silence…. and then sounds of movement sounded through the door. The door opened, and his eyes were met with the image of his wife in a very revealing nightie, "Here." She pressed a pair of pants into his chest with fire in her eyes, "Sleep well."_

_The bite in her voice was evidence that she was still sore over their argument, but as she stepped away to shut the door, his hand gently grasped her wrist and he took a step towards her, "Stell…"_

_"No, Mac. You knew that case was mine and you should've told me about it before handing it over to him. I felt blindsided."_

_"I didn't think it would be such a big deal to you."_

_"That's the problem, Mac. You didn't THINK."_

_She sighed and tilted her head as she stared at him, "I wanted that case."_

_Since their argument in his office, she'd been irritable all day, and as much as she hated to admit it, he was right to give the case to Sheldon. Once she'd spoken to the other CSI and found out what his evidence was she knew Mac had been right. "I know you did…"_

_His voice brought her out of her head and she watched as he shrugged and then dropped his head, "Mac…"_

_His eyes lifted at her soft sigh of his name and she couldn't help but smile at him. The way he looked at her with his ruffed hair and shirt undone, like a little boy after a long day at school. He was irresistible. She stepped forward and wrapped her arms around his neck, a contented breath released from them both as his arms wrapped around her waist and held her to him, "You were right. He deserved the case."_

_She pulled back a bit and met his eyes, gliding her fingers through the short brown strands around his face. He smiled and leaned his forehead to hers, "Still mad?"_

_She chuckled and shook her head slightly, before tilting her head and brushing her lips against his as she whispered back to him, "I suppose your forgiven."_

_She ran her nails gently thru the hair at the nape of his neck and looked up at him with mischievous eyes, "You know, we haven't really made up properly…"_

_He grinned and walked her backward slowly into the bedroom, easing her back down onto the bed before leaning back and enjoying the view for a moment, "This has to be the best part of fighting with you…"_

The memory of their following 'reconciliation' making her blush slightly, she sidled up next to him and ran her hand over his back, offering him the water she'd gotten.

"Mac…" she sighed and swallowed her pride, "I'm sorry, Mac," she shook her head and looked around.

He looked at her sideways. "I'm sorry, too, Stella. I shouldn't have pushed."

"No, it's good that you did. I needed that," she shook her head and looked at him with a slight shake of her head. "It's uncanny how you always seem to know what I need, even when I myself don't," she said, the right corner of her mouth going upwards.

"Think I should try out for 'America's Got Talent'?" he asked wryly.

She chuckled, feeling a part of the big weight on her shoulders lift. "That's what I'm talking about."

Her expression turned serious again. "You're my partner and I need your help with this. If you still want to work with me, that is."

"You had me at 'Mac'," he said, his eyes grazing her face in an almost palpable caress.

She allowed herself another smile but as her gaze wondered to the dreaded building where Don and Nate were being held, she sighed. "Damn it, this brings back so many memories," she looked at him helplessly. "Except this time I'M the one who has to call the shots…And it's Don and Nate in there, Mac…if we choose wrong, they can die."

She dropped her head, letting her curls hide her face from him. She felt angry and helpless, and she didn't know what to do. She didn't want him to see her like that. Would he think her weak? Not ready for such a challenge? Incapable of doing the job?

Mac looked at the anguish in her features, knowing how difficult this was for her. He realized that despite all her success and skill, she was still unsure if this was the right job for her, no matter what she said or how tough she acted. He let his fingers gently slide under her chin, and motioned her head upwards so that he could look her in the eye.

His hand quickly dropped from her face but the warmth in his eyes remained as he spoke. "I know. I'm just as worried as you are. But you have to make a choice, Stella. And I know you'll choose well."

She looked at him, her eyes lucid. The faith in her his voice and expression held were infectious. If a man like Mac Taylor told you he believed in you there was simply no other solution but to believe it yourself. She sighed. What would she do without him, when he left? She shook those dreadful thoughts to the back of her mind and mustered a grateful smile. "Remember Officer Velasquez, Mac?"

He looked at her tenderly, immediately knowing what she was getting at. It was eight years back but he remembered the case like it was yesterday. The shot officer's horse had driven a wedge between them like nothing in years. He wanted to wait then, and she was the one to push him to go on with the investigation and sacrifice what had to be sacrificed in order to catch the killer, however heart-wrenching it was. It was the other way round now but he could see they were both as eager to question the other and butt heads as they had been then. He was actually relieved to see that even after all that happened, they hadn't changed that much since then. Sincerity and openness were always the foundations of their friendship and love – they never lied to each other, never beat about the bush and they were always more than ready and willing to stand up to the other when they disapproved of a move the other one was making. Even if it involved confrontations they both later regretted, like in Velasquez's horse's case.

He remembered the angry words they had spouted off at each other, and how bad he felt about it. She was all business, and hell-bent on solving the case and though they had disagreed, he admired her for her passion even back then. He knew she still had that passion, it was simply undermined by the burden of years of experience and responsibility she was now carrying on her shoulders.

"Yes," he said simply.

She nodded her head, licking her lips nervously. "After the funeral we were in the locker room together and you told me you wouldn't do this job without me."

"And I remember you telling me that I would but wouldn't be as good," he said with a half-smile.

She let out a chuckle, then she looked him seriously in the eyes. "The truth is, I can't do this job without you."

His brow creased at that. "Yes you can." He ran a hand over her curls and smirked. "And you're just as good."

She chuckled through the tears that welled up in her eyes out of nowhere and leaned up to kiss his cheek. "Thank you," she said pulling back and looking him in the eye. "Though you know that's not true."

He was opening his mouth to reply when a shot sounded from inside the building. His eyes lifted to the second floor. Stella looked to SWAT guys and listened at the radio, "Shots fired. We have shots fired."

"Any idea who was shot?"

"Negative. I don't have a clear view. The guy shut the drapes."

She nodded and looked at Mac with hardened eyes, "You're right. We need to get in there before anything else happens." She turned to Styles, "That perimeter up and ready right now?"

On his nod, she looked back at Mac, who was already taking out his piece from its holster. Their gazes locked and they both knew their thoughts were in synch, back to their usual silent communication mode.

She handed Mac a SWAT reinforced bulletproof vest with a grin, "We're going in with them."

She knit her hands together with a tight smile before heading over and grabbing her own vest, strapping it on and securing her weapon. She nodded to the SWAT team and glanced at Mac, "Comin', Taylor?"

Mac took the safety off his Glock with one swift movement and nodded.

___XXXXXXXXXXXXX_

Muffled threats were heard as they approached down the hallway. The silent progression from the staircase toward the room, giving the team an advantage. Stella's body hugged the walls as she scooted closer to the room, listening as the DA was taunted with stories of how his family had begged for their lives, how the pleas were muffled by the duct tape, and it felt to watch each one die. She steeled herself and turned to Mac with suspicious eyes. There was only one voice sounding through the hallway. The only other voices were Nate and Flack. One of the guys was missing and the DA was quiet. Had he been the shot they'd heard? Had one of the felons turned on the other?

She leaned over and whispered her concern to Lieutenant Styles who shook his head, holding up his hand to silence her, "NOPD! You are surrounded. Put the weapon down and come out with your hands up."

Mac was standing right next to Stella, listening in on the voices from the other end of the corridor. Stella was right, there were too few. He remembered the building plans they had been studying and recalled there was a sealed emergency exit somewhere on the perps' end. It was hidden but they had no guarantee Hernandez and Gould hadn't gotten wind of it.

Stella's eyes moved across each surface around them as she listened to the SWAT leader addressing the perp. Her eyes settled on the service elevator and she cocked her head, something didn't seem right.

"Just put the gun down. No one needs to get hurt."

"How do I know one of your snipers isn't going to take me out? Huh?"

"The teams outside are on stand down. No one fires without my word," Stella said.

The perp came out holding Flack in front of him as a shield, "You get the unmarked car?"

"It's outside." She found her voice and caught Flack's eyes for a moment, "We just want our guys safe. No one needs to be harmed."

The man stared at her, his dark eyes almost ripping through her as he called into the room, "GET OUT OF HERE."

Stella tensed as she saw Nate come out with his hands taped behind his back joining Flack as a shield in front of him. She grit her jaw and looked between them, "Where's the DA, Gould?"

He smirked and nodded into the room, "He got what he had coming to him." Her heart dropped in her chest, as she watched him raise his gun to Flack, "My job's done here. So, if your guys want to shoot, they can." He cocked his gun and aimed at Flack's back. Nate looked at Flack then to Stella and Mac before making a decision and wheeling around, his body flying into the perp's.

Her eyes widened as she watched it almost in slow motion, the sound of the shot ringing out down the hallway, as SWAT rushed for the scene. She glanced back down the hallway and caught the numbers on the service elevator moving up. "Mac..."

Mac's eyes connected with hers, and he knew they had to act fast. Don and Nate were unhurt and Gould was shot and being tackled by SWAT but he would give his monthly salary it was the other perp, Hernandez, in that elevator. They had to catch him before he got to the roof.

Turning around, Stella looked at Ashley and the other cops with them, "You stay here. If he's coming back down, I want him caught."

"Yeah but where are you going?" Ashley's big brown eyes followed with intense movement.

Mac nodded to the emergency stairs as Stella glanced once more at the elevator, ensuring the correct floor, "Up."

Mac led her in, doing a sweep of the stairs; with each floor up, they both knew they were closing in and the stakes could get dramatically higher. They reached the roof and glanced around, slowly canvassing the area.

Mac had just turned a large corner as he heard her shout his name. He raised his gun and saw the man he knew to be Frederico Hernandez holding a .38 caliber to Stella's temple, her body pulled flushed against his and her eyes wide.

"Don't shoot," Mac said slowly, though his heart was threatening to jump out of his chest. "Just take it easy."

"You stay back! Another step and I blow her away. I'm serious, man."

Stella's green gaze locked onto his as she grit her jaw, "Don't you let him get away, Mac. Don't you let this bastard get away."

He stared into her eyes, recognizing the well known steel and determination in her gaze. They both knew he couldn't let Hernandez get away…but right now he had the love of his life at gunpoint. It wasn't just another hostage situation. This had just become very personal. He had to find another way to solve this. And he would kill Hernandez with his bare hands if he only got a chance. His eyes flicked from Stella to the coward that was using her as a shield to protect his miserable life.

Her eyes watched him as he looked between her and the man holding her, "Damn it, Mac."

Hernandez clenched his jaw and stood his ground hard, using her as a shield, keeping himself hidden mostly behind her, so that he'd stay protected from the bullet. "That'd be unwise. He won't risk taking the shot with you here."

"I don't care about that. I just hope you get what's coming to you for this."

She winced as the side of the gun smacked into her cheek, "Shut up."

The sickening taste of blood tainted her taste buds as blood trickled down her cheek and over her lips. Her yelling rivaled Hernandez's as they both shouted to Mac.

Hernandez pushed her head back, holding her by the throat with his free hand and pressed the gun into her temple harder. "STELLA."

Her eyes darted to the stairs as Ashley and two SWAT team members approached as back up, behind Mac. Mac didn't take his eyes off Stella, though.

"All of you, back off!" Hernandez barked. "Back off and she lives."

Stella's eyes bore into Mac's as she nodded her approval to take the shot, "Mac…"

Her plea was soft and though she was putting on the fight and the rough exterior, her eyes betrayed her to him. Fear. It was pronounced and obvious in the green orbs. She grit her jaw, "Mac, take the shot." Her cry of pain as the guy jammed the gun harder into her skull echoed around the rooftop as he backed towards the edge.

Mac felt bile rise in his mouth seeing the plea and pain in Stella's eyes as the perp held her even closer, hitting her with his gun. His knuckles on the handle of his Glock had gone white from squeezing it so hard, and he gritted his teeth. He still didn't have a clear shot. There was one other thing he could do. He decided in an instant. It would be risky but he had to try. For Stella's life he would sacrifice his own without a second thought. He had an ace up his sleeve. If Hernandez was so bent on revenge…

"You don't want to do this," he said, barely keeping his anger at bay. "Not to her. Take me, but you let her go. I'm more valuable to you than she is. I'm the head of New York Crime Lab. I'm the one that helped Monroe put you away. Just.. just let her go."

Stella stared at him and shook her head, her hands gripping the hand around her throat. She knew what Mac was doing and her breath caught in her throat. He wanted to give himself up to this murdering bastard willingly to save her. "I don't think so. There's a car down there with my name on it… and she'll make a great consolation prize."

His face neared her neck and she turned her head away in disgust as he breathed in her scent. He grinned seeing the look on Mac's face and chuckled softly, speaking to her as he caressed her throat roughly, "I think he's jealous… He's jealous that I get to have you."

She swallowed the bile in her throat as he pressed a kiss to her neck and grinned, "You're going to be real good to me, aren't you?"

She struggled in his grasp and coughed slightly as he tightened his grip on her neck, squeezing her larynx tighter, "You'll be the perfect way to celebrate this whole thing working out."

She blinked and fought to stay conscious as the airflow coming in was slowly being restricted. Her grip got lighter on his hand and her struggling subsided with each second, and his smiled widened as he let Mac watch as he took her to the edge and then released, holding her as she coughed and gasped, and then gripping it again.

Mac watched in horror as Stella became limp in Hernandez's grasp. The taunting and threats were one thing but this… He felt something crack within him. He would catch this guy and enjoy tearing him up piece by piece with his bare hands.

"ENOUGH!" His yell was loud and echoed across the rooftop and out, sounding almost as if he wanted Danny and Lindsay to hear it in New York.

He looked at Mac and released her neck, moving his arm around her waist and holding her tight to his chest. She gasped for a breath as her slightly limp body collapsed like a broken marionette in his arms, "I did my research on you while I was in jail, Detective Taylor… Marine, highly decorated… solved a lot of cases…" he smirked and caressed Stella's cheek, "And I know all about your wife…"

Mac's eyes darted to Stella's as a soft gasp sounded from her lips. Her eyes darted to her team behind him and then back to him.

All the blood drained from his face, and there was a terrified buzz in his ears as he realized Hernandez knew who he and Stella were all along. And now he was going to use this knowledge in his vendetta. He felt his heart break seeing the torment in Stella's eyes, knowing it was reflected in his own.

"Mac…" she pleaded with him again softly as he moved her backward.

That one single syllable, uttered with so much love and finality at the same time, helped him make the decision. There was nothing he wouldn't do to save her life. His eyes darted to Lieutenant Styles close behind him and then settled back on Stella.

Hernandez pressed a kiss to Stella's curls and smirked at Mac. "Say goodbye, Detective Taylor."

Stella's breathing quickened as he moved to the fire escape with her still held hostage in his arms, while taunting Mac.

BANG.

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**A/N: Sorry for the cliffie! What do you think happened? We'd love to know what you thought of this chapter! Even the smallest 'ok' makes our day;)**

**Have a nice weekend!**

_Babygurl&Stardust_


	8. Love Is A Rollercoaster

**Happily Never After**

**Disclaimer: **Unfortunately we still own nothing. Nada. Null.

**A/N: **A HUGE thanks for all the wonderful reviews, favs and alerts! They really made our day! To show our appreciation for your support and to not keep you hanging with that cliffie any longer, we're posting this chapter sooner than usual for you:)

* * *

**Chapter 8 – Love Is A Rollercoasterf**

"_It happened so quick. One minute he had the gun to her head; the next…."_

"_I've never seen a kill shot like that before. That was pure luck at its best."_

"_If it had been anyone else, he wouldn't have fired like that… that's all I know."_

The voices of the team and witnesses swirled around in the wind down on the street, swallowing the two bodies sitting on the edge of the paramedics truck in chaos. Her hand locked into his as she leaned her head against his shoulder.

Ashley was right, it happened so quick.

_BANG._

_She and her captor teetered at the edge for a moment before he went backward and she collapsed forward into the arms running to meet her. Her arms wrapped tightly around Mac as people ran to check on her and to see where the body of the other man landed. She clung to him tightly, "I love you Mac."_

_Her eyes sought his out, unshed tears threatening to fall as she looked at him. As one tear slipped from her tight control, he wiped it away with the pad of his thumb and kissed her bruised temple gently, "I love you too, Stella."_

_And then they were separated by the swarm of paramedics, SWAT officers and CSIs…_

"Bonasera...er...Taylor."

Stella's eyes lifted to SWAT team leader as he approached his hand extended to her, "I'm not sure what to call you anymore…"

She smiled softly, "Taylor. It's time the truth came out. Detective Stella Taylor." She gave a simple nod and squeezed Mac's hand gently.

The smile returned from Lt. Styles was warm and understanding before he turned to Mac and shook his free hand, "Nice shot. Didn't know you could fire a weapon like that."

"I was a Marine…and he was holding my wife," Mac shrugged modestly as if shooting a professional sniper rifle with bull's-eye precision was the most normal thing in the world. "There was no other option."

Stella smiled warmly at him and cuddled against him more, pressing the length of her torso against his arm. Lt. Styles nodded, "I'm impressed. You can shoot with my team any day."

Stella chuckled and spoke up softly, "He's heading back to New York soon enough, Lt. Styles…" she met Mac's eyes as he turned to look at her with a furrowed brow, "And I plan to join him."

She barely caught the man's movements away from them as she leaned in and brushed her lips against his. "Take me home, Mac."

The whispered plea was soft and yet spoke volumes of what she wanted, what she needed.

Mac took a moment to admire the depth in her eyes, which spoke of a love so deep and devoted, he feared to believe it was real.

"I will…" he cleared his throat, his eyes not leaving her for even a moment. "-but first, you need to be checked by the paramedics."

She groaned softly and buried her face against his shoulder murmuring softly about how much she hated hospitals and EMS.

He chuckled and ran a hand over her ruffled curls.

_XXXXXXXXXXXX _

Sitting in the ER waiting room, Mac ran a tired hand over his face. The paramedics had insisted on taking Stella in as there was threat of a minor concussion and despite her protests, there they were now. Mac saw she was really shaken, though she tried not to show it. He had mercilessly assisted her into the ambulance himself, her protests falling on deaf ears.

"Traitor," she whispered into his ear in the ambulance before the paramedics hopped on. "You never let me take you to the hospital," she said reproachfully.

"Stell, that's not…"

"Remember Ethan Scott aka Joe? You were a hostage and almost died, and you wouldn't listen to a word I said, Rambo," she said snarkily. "Or Lessing's little bombing experiment? You allowed as much as a band aid on yourself then and that's only because the blood was gushing out of your neck."

He had to chuckle. "You have way too good memory."

"I remember any day when you were in danger, Mac," she said quietly, her eyes dropping to her fidgeting hands. "-because those were the days my heart stopped."

He felt his own heart stop at this very moment. "Stell…"

She raised her hand to stop him. "Just wanted you to know that this works both ways, ok?"

"Ok, point taken," he nodded. "But you've been in two serious accidents in a matter of week, Stella. Do this for me now and we can be Mr. and Mrs. Smith next time," he added wanting to lighten the mood and get that somber expression away from her face.

As if on cue, her eyes lightened up. "Do I hear Mac Taylor making a pop culture reference?"

He shrugged. "I had to do something with my free time when you weren't there," he quipped.

"I hope watching movies was all you did," she said in a threatening tone.

"As a matter of fact, it wasn't," he continued in that teasing manner.

"Oh?" she asked in a small voice but he remained silent. "You're going to leave me hanging like this?" she asked incredulously.

"I'll tell you if you let yourself be looked over at the hospital," he said with an innocent smile.

She groaned but as the paramedics got inside the ambulance, she protested no more.

Mac smiled at the memory but the smile died on his lips when he remembered more of what had happened before that. The look of fear and defeat in Stella's eyes when Hernandez was holding her at gunpoint would haunt him for many nights to come. What if he hadn't been there? With more certainty than ever before, he realized that he would never leave her side again, and never let her face anything like this alone.

He would never forget what he felt that moment. It was an overbearing, threatening emptiness. That was what his life was without her. He had experienced it once and was never going to let that happen again. So, out of the emptiness emerged a decision. He knew he could do it and would do it. One look in Lt. Styles' direction assured him they were thinking the same thing. Mac was the only one in a position good enough to take a shot. He hadn't held a sniper rifle in a long time but that didn't matter. When he felt the cold metal in his hands, everything came back to him. All the doubts and hesitations fell off replaced by complete certainty. He only had time for one look in the visor, and one breath. It was all he needed.

"Detective Taylor?" came a voice from his side, cutting his train of thought short. The young nurse frowned checking her file again. "Detective…Taylor is waiting for you?" she frowned, not sure she got it right and well aware of the effect.

"Thank you," Mac said with a reassuring smile and quickly made his way to the emergency room he knew Stella had been taken into.

She was sitting with her back to him, hospital scrubs only thrown on her half-naked frame and revealing quite a delightful portion of her tanned skin to his eyes. He remembered the touch of that suave skin so well, how wonderful it felt against his, how it would heat up or get covered in goose bumps under his fingers...and then he noticed the ugly bruise tainting the perfect skin just above her right shoulder blade and he winced as if he could feel the pain himself. It was his fault. He should have taken a better eye at her and none of this would have happened.

Instead, he got into his righteous mode, when everything else but catching the killer ceased to matter. But it wasn't like that anymore. They were _married_. There would always be Stella who mattered regardless of anything else – the protocol, his duty to the city and the people of New York, even his quest for justice. However selfish it might sound, it all waned when juxtaposed with one single person. The person who happened to be the love of his life.

Then her head turned to the side and he knew she knew he was there.

"Wanted to say something?" she asked teasingly. She knew that look. He was probably fretting over her injuries and already crucifying himself for them.

"No, I wasn't going to say anything," he said aiming for a neutral tone though he knew Stella was always able to see through it.

"Well, you were 'not saying anything' very loudly," she said with a wry smile.

He shook his head and took a step inside. "This does look familiar," he remarked pleasantly. "It seems almost every time I see you, you're in a hospital bed."

"Maybe I just want to get your attention?"

He shook his head, feeling a painful pang even though he knew she was only joking. "That thought should never even cross your mind and it's my fault that it did. You should never have to make any kind of effort to get my attention. You should have it by definition. And…and you do."

"Mac, I was just teasing you. I didn't want to sound reproachful or anything."

"I know but it brought out stuff that I have been thinking a lot about lately, Stella. Stuff I have to explain and apologize for." He took her hand in his. "I'm sorry for driving you away. I got scared, Stell. I didn't think I deserved so much happiness. I still don't…but I now understand that no one does because it isn't about _deserving_. It's about _making_ your own happiness. We get as much as we make for ourselves. It's all up to us. And being your husband has given me more happiness than I could ever imagine. It comes before everything else. I'm sorry I ever forgot that, Stella." He saw her expression change so rapidly that he was afraid he'd hurt her somehow. "You ok, Stell?"

"Um, yeah," she turned her face away to the side. "It must be all the medicines in here. They're making my eyes water."

"You don't always have to be this brave," he said softly.

"Yes, I do," she replied and as he looked at her, her eyes were dark with such multitudes of depth, it left his mind reeling.

He was about to reply when a nurse came in to give Stella her release papers and check up on her dressings one last time. Mac stood aside, his face glum and expression set. His gaze followed the nurse's actions as she inspected one cut and bruise after another, his mind producing the exact moments they had been inflicted in. He turned towards the window. Hernandez met too easy a death. Mac would have loved to tear him apart piece by piece for every threat he said and hand he laid on Stella.

"There's something else bothering you." He heard her voice and turned around, realizing they were alone again.

He shook his head, his mouth a hard line. "I should be the one Hernandez should have taken his rage out on." He sighed. "It should have been me. I can't even start thinking what I would do if he…if you…" his voice let him down at the very notion of Hernandez making good on his threats.

She reached out and placed her hand on his cheek, gently stroking his rough skin with her thumb. She felt tears in her eyes but they were the tears of joy and relief. She was hurting all over and she was a mess but she wouldn't change this moment and anything that led to it for anything. She felt at home. This was her Mac. The love of her life. Her husband. Gone was the distant, aloof man that drove her away. There wasn't a trace of him in his eyes as she looked deeply into those incredible irises that were so blue they sometimes turned green when he was very intent about something. They were green now.

"Then don't, Mac. Give yourself a break," she enunciated. "I'm fine, we got two murderers off the streets, we rescued Flack and Nate…want me to go on with the list?"

He shook his head with a smile.

"This was a good day, Mac. Sometimes you have to accept you're human just like the rest of us and can't foresee and prevent everything."

"I shouldn't have put you in harm's way like that."

"You didn't. Hernandez did. And I'm a cop, remember? It's a given. We get _paid_ to stand in harm's way so that innocent people who don't have our training and skills don't have to."

Mac listened to her and felt his heart swell with love and affection he hadn't felt in a long time.

"God, I missed you, Stell," he breathed and gently pressed his lips to hers, wary of the bruises on her cheek. She didn't seem to mind them, though, as she deepened the kiss with a force he was sure would leave bruises on his lips. He couldn't care less, though, and reciprocated fire with fire.

When she finally pulled back a little, he looked her in the eye, tucking a stray curl back behind her ear. The words she had said after the shooting wouldn't leave his mind. He had to ask her.

"Stell, did you mean what you said about…about us and New York? Or was it just that bump on your head talking?"

"You think I need a hard smack on the head to realize I love you and want to be with you? I'm not you, Mac," she quipped.

He cracked a small smile, which was however quickly replaced by lingering uncertainty in his eyes. "So…you want to leave here and come back with me? You've done so much here, you've got a team, a job, an apartment…"

"I know. I love my team, the job is demanding but rewarding and the city is beautiful." Seeing a worried frown building on his face, she put a hand to his cheek. "And I will give up all this 'greatness' for you without a blink, Mac. Because without you, it's all nothing." She smiled tenderly. "Besides, the climate does dreadful things to my hair," she added wryly. "They get all frizzy."

His gaze automatically wandered to her mane of curls, which was as glorious as ever. He felt his lips twitch upwards. "Really? Mine are perfectly fine."

"Smart ass," she said with a pout.

He chuckled. "So, you're ready to get out of here?"

"Lead the way."

_XXXXXXXXXXXX _

Her hand sought his out on the ride back to the apartment, a sense of déjà vu washing over her for a moment, this time though it was full of anticipation and electricity.

Mac could almost see the sparks bouncing between them and he smiled at the familiarity of the feeling. He was well aware of the chemistry they had shared long before they actually fell in love and became lovers but when they made that step, that mystical energy between them was somehow magnified and enhanced. It had sometimes made him drunk with love and affection for her, and made their marriage, both in and out of the bedroom, for lack of a better word, magical. He thought he had irreversibly lost it but there it was again. All it took were her lithe fingers doing gentle circles on the skin of his palm and the smoldering look she flashed him.

Green met blue as they pulled up in front of her apartment building and Stella quickly paid, taking his hand in hers and leading him to the stairs. She leaned up slowly and pressed her lips to his, silently communicating the need and desire she had for him. If these past few days had taught her anything, it was that he was the only consistent thing in her life. He was the only solid foundation of her existence, and while everything else was spinning out of control, he'd be the thing she could cling to.

He could never really think straight whenever Stella did something like this. The desire and passion for him he saw in her eyes had always had the force to render him helpless, turning his stoical and controlled mind into thoughtless, defenseless goo. And this time it was even worse – it felt like their first kiss as he joyfully, though still warily, rediscovered her lips and body and gave himself back to her in return. He had no idea how far they would have gone in that corridor, both almost mad with the passion they had restrained for such a long time, had it not been for a discreet shuffle to their left.

Stella pulled away and greeted the elderly lady standing nearby. "Good afternoon, Mrs. Colby," she said unfazed, grinning at her neighbor.

"Afternoon, Stella," the old lady replied with a raised eyebrow, her gaze sweeping over her and Mac's disheveled state.

"This is my husband, Mac," Stella explained and Mac nodded slightly. "He's come from NY."

"Good for you." Mrs. Colby lifted an eyebrow. "I won't keep you any longer, then. You've obviously got some catching up to do," she said with a smirk. "Though I don't recommend the corridor. It gets draughty," she added with a mischievous glint in her eye. "What is it the kids say nowadays? Get a room?"

Mac looked mortified. The blush creeping up his cheeks and his boyish look as if he'd been caught with his hand in the cookie jar, made Stella want to devour him right there and then, regardless of the audience.

"See you later, Mrs. Colby," Stella managed trying hard not to laugh out loud and dragged Mac up the last stairway to her floor.

When they were out of ear shot, she finally let it out, Mac's obvious embarrassment only fuelling her bouts of laughter.

"What's so funny?" he huffed.

"The look on your face…" she panted in between laughs, leaning her hands against her knees to get her breath back. "It was…worth more than all the gold in Fort Knox."

He raised an eyebrow at her, closing the distance between them. The intense, smoldering look in his eyes stopped her giggle, and she gasped when his lips crushed onto hers hungrily, possessively.

When they had first started dating, Stella learned what she had only glimpsed as his friend. During the first months she found herself bewildered at how much he actually kept inside and how different he was when they were alone, together. Sometimes she felt the urge to pinch herself just to check he was really _the_ Mac Taylor, the stern and reclusive head of the NY crime lab. It took her some time to get used to the fact that outside the job, with her, he was a different man – he still had all the traits she loved him for as a CSI and her boss but they were enhanced by an affectionate and sympathetic nature he was normally forced to conceal. They all did that, or they wouldn't get through one day in the job they did, but Mac had always been extreme in this respect. She couldn't blame him being well aware what had made him so, but that only made her discovery of his passionate, playful side even more exciting.

"How's that for funny?" he breathed against her lips with a triumphant smirk after a whole eternity seemed to have passed in her mind.

She didn't reply but nuzzled her head into his neck, pressing soft kisses there and smiling as she made him softly groan her name. Her hands gripped his tightly and she pressed him against the front door of her apartment, holding him against herself and wrapping her leg around his, "Need. You."

She gasped as he unlocked her door and pushed her inside pinning her to the wall of her hallway and kicking the door shut. His hands pushed at her shirt hungrily and hers clawed at his as they moved down the hallway to the kitchen, slowly beginning a trail of clothing. Her body arched off the refrigerator as he pinned her to it and feasted on her neck with his lips and tongue nipping and sucking the soft flesh before moving down her chest as he pulled her away from the appliance and ground his body against hers, eliciting a groan of need from deep inside her throat. Her mouth latched onto his as she raked her nails down his bare back and attacked his belt buckle, dropping the item on her kitchen floor as the anticipation and fervor rose to excruciating heights.

His arms lifted her off the floor, her long lean legs wrapping around his waist as he moved form the kitchen to her living room before finally finding their space on the couch. Soft sighs and moans filled the space as they moved together in a tangled web of arms and legs. Her lips gasped his name as his hands reacquainted themselves with her body while her hands slowly kneaded his skin and drank in each reaction to her movements. His name ricocheted off of the walls surrounding them as the moments passed, his name being reverently repeated by her as he pushed her closer to oblivion. His lips whispered her name against her ear, then into her hair and down to her neck as he murmured it over and over again, repeating it like a prayer for salvation from his sins.

And then it went still.

She gently nuzzled his neck with a soft sigh and held him tight as their breathing began to return to normal, "Forgot how good we were at that."

He smiled at the breathiness in her voice and kissed her collarbone, "I'll remind you every chance I can get."

She chuckled softly and kissed his sweaty temple tenderly, "I'm looking forward to it."

She nipped his earlobe and then soothed it with a kiss, before he pulled back and the darkened blue eyes stared into her clear green ones, "You realize I'll never be able to give you up, ever again. Now that you're back in my arms... I'm going to have to keep you here; by all means necessary."

She grinned and caressed his rough cheek with her warm palm, "Is that a promise?"

_XXXXXXXXXXXX _

"Hey."

Her brown eyes met his blue ones as she nervously walked in and ruffed his hair, "How you feelin'?"

He groaned and pulled back from her with a playful glare, "Don't touch the hair."

She chuckled and brushed it again before sitting down at the desk next to his with a wry smile. Silence passed for a moment as each got lost in their own thoughts before she looked up at him with wary eyes, "That was really brave... you know, what you did; tackling that guy and everything."

He smirked and shrugged, "Gotta do what I gotta do."

She shook her head with a slight frown, "You don't always have to play the hero, Nate. What if he'd shot you? What if you were the dead guy in the morgue on a slab and not..."

He sighed, "Not the DA I was supposed to be protecting?"

She reached over and took his hands in hers, gently covering his bandages and bruises with her soft skin, "You did all you could. We can't save them all. It's not your fault..."

He stared into the glassy eyes and nodded slightly, "How's Stella?"

She paused for a moment, shelving any emotions she'd just opened and leaned back in her chair, "She's fine. The doctor released her into her _husband's_ care."

He shook his head and swallowed, "You believe they kept it from us?"

She scoffed and crossed her arms, "It's their marriage; their choice. Who are we to expect to be kept in the loop?"

"It doesn't piss you off? You don't feel anything knowing that they LIED to us?"

"What do you want me to say, huh? Yeah, I'm bothered by the fact that my boss, the person who I had to rely on daily kept something like this from me; I'm bothered by the fact that her husband is a great guy and that I'm still single... I'm bothered by the fact that she has the perfect guy and I'm stuck dating worthless men and practically living in this lab because I'm hurt and fed up with it all. Is THAT what you wanted to hear, Nate? That you're not ALONE in that boat?"

She stood and quickly breezed from the room, nearly plowing down Stella and Mac. They both looked at each other, a silent understanding between them and Mac went after Ashley as Stella headed to the junior CSIs' office and stood at the door, eying Nate sympathetically.

Her knuckles rapt on the door as she watched him fidget the bandages on his hand anxiously, "You know they put those there for a reason."

He glanced up at her with a small smile and then dropped his eyes with a nod. Her eyebrows furrowed together and she moved into the room, sitting down on the edge of his desk, "Not talking to me?"

He swallowed and crossed his arms over his chest, "Where's Mac?"

Realization dawned in her green eyes as he bitterly mentioned Mac's name, "Is that what this is all about?"

"Why didn't you tell me?"

She dropped her eyes at his question and focused on her hands, "We were going through a rough period in our marriage Nate. Nothing was ever going to happen with us, I wouldn't have let it. I love him. I always have, but I needed to get away for a while. I thought that by keeping my past, my marriage especially, a secret that it'd help me heal quicker. I figured if no one knew, no one would ask and then I'd be okay."

"Just wish I'd known before I asked you..."

She chuckled lightly and touched his hand, "Nate, you're sweet. Really... but I think there's someone closer to home that you could be looking at."

She smiled at the confused look on his face and nodded to the window in the office, giving them a clear view of Mac talking to Ashley in the hallway. "Ashley?"

Stella nodded and gave his hand a squeeze, "You know, we started like you two. Young, passionate, so into the job that sometimes it got between us."

Her hand rested on his forearm as he glanced up at her, "I just don't think that..."

She grinned and shook her head, "You're a good guy, Nate. Any woman would be lucky to have you, and if you're looking for a good woman who can appreciate you... I think she might be the one. Just take it slow. Coffee, dinner, walks after cases... sometimes just being a good friend can prove to someone that you're everything they've been looking for."

He sighed and gazed at the petite brunette and smirked, "I thought there was a no dating team members policy?"

She winked at him and gave his forearm a gentle squeeze, "Trust me, if you're going to mix work and social, be careful about it. Keep them separate and stick with that. No home life at work; and vice versa. You do that, and I think you two could really make a run of it."

_XXXXXXXXXXXX _

"Ashley?" Mac called after her and she stopped, quickly wiping her eyes with her sleeve.

"Um…yes, detective Taylor?" she said turning around.

Mac sighed, not one concealed tear and frown escaping his sharp eyes. "Usually it's me who's in need of emotional advice…" he started uneasily. He was never good at this sort of things. Emotions scared him still, and although Stella did miracles with him and had managed to weed out a big chunk of his reservations, he would never be totally comfortable. But he liked this girl and saw she needed some kind of a pick me up. "I used to think like you do – I had been hurt and disappointed badly in the past so I decided happiness wasn't for me. I buried myself in the lab, worked non stop…"

"But you're the best at what you do. That's the price of success, right?"

"Success is a glum, sad place if you don't have anyone to share it with," he said shaking his head. "You know it took me ten years to realize the person I love was under my nose the whole time? I was fed up with people, and was too engrossed in my job and career to see how unhappy I was. I wasn't living. I was existing," he turned to the side to look at Stella, still talking with Nate. "Stella changed that."

She crossed her arms, "You're telling me there's a happy ever after for everyone?"

He gave her a smile. "No. There's no such thing. But if you have your eyes open, work hard enough, and never lose faith, you might get a happy never after."

She chuckled. "Like you and Stella?"

"Exactly like me and Stella," he replied seriously.

She sighed and blinked away the remainders of her tears, wiping at her face and laughing softly, "I'm, um... I'm sorry about earlier in the, um... the hotel room. I didn't know about..."

He held his hand up with a slight smile and shook his head, "Forgotten."

She smiled warmly and stepped forward hesitantly, hugging him awkwardly, "Thanks. I needed that."

She pulled back in time to see Stella come out and wave her over to the office, her voice low as she spoke to her with a maternal smile and playful wink. Her eyes met Mac's as she nudged Ashley into the room and headed over to him, "Remind you of anyone?"

"She's nothing like you."

Her melodious laughter flowed around them as she lightly smacked his chest, "Not us... Although you could give Nate good competition at being stubborn and thick-headed."

Mac raised an eyebrow at her, "Kettle. Pot," he said pointedly.

She chuckled quietly, "Touché." She took his hand in hers, "I told Don we'd meet him at the bar down the street... he's heading back tonight and I'd like to have some time to catch up with him before he goes."

_XXXXXXXXXXXX _

"You two can't do anything small, can you?"

She raised an eyebrow and sipped her beer, her free hand clasped in Mac's as they sat in the booth opposite Don. She chuckled and reveled in the feelings of old times. "What the hell does that mean, Flack?"

"Come on, Stella. Your fights should have numbers on the Richter scale," he said snidely. "Then the whole hostage thing today, and you moving down here and all that. EVERYTHING you two do is big. I don't even want to think about how you two cope with each other outside of work."

She chuckled lightly and leaned into Mac's side, "We keep each other in line."

Don rolled his eyes and sighed, "Between you two and Danny and Linds, I'm amazed the team is still functioning. What do you guys do when you're fighting?"

It was Mac who answered him this time, though his eyes were trained on Stella, still hugging him and creating a pleasant warmth in his left side, "Avoid each other until it becomes too painful for us to breathe."

Stella's eyes met her husband's as he spoke and she captured his cheek in her hand, caressing it gently before pressing a chaste kiss to his lips. The groan that sounded from Flack was muffled by his beer mug as he brought it up to take a long swig.

Her ears delighted in their soft chit-chat and felt at home again as she sat with 'her boys'.

Mac could see Stella was positively glowing. Gone was the haunted tautness in her features and the dark abyss behind her eyes he saw when he first came here. Now she seemed content…and happy? He knew he was all that and even more, all thanks to her.

"I gotta hand it to you Stell, it's better down here than you told me."

Her heart lurched as she heard the phrase and her eyes lifted to Don's as she tensed slightly and darted her eyes to Mac before looking at him, "I... I couldn't do it justice."

Mac felt like he had been hit on the head with something big. Like a pick-up truck. Or a tank. He stared at Don and then at Stella, the words and their meaning slowly sinking in. So she hadn't cut her ties with New York when she left, she just cut all her ties with _him_.

Stella felt his hand slip from hers and sighed as he slid from the booth and headed to the exit. "What's his issue?"

She swallowed lightly, "He didn't know I kept up with you."

"Oh, damn. I'm sorry, Stell."

She shook her head with a soft sigh and smile, "My fault. I'll take care of this." She winked at him and slid out to follow her husband, locating him at the side of the building by the back alleyway. She studied his tense back and walked over wrapping her arms around him and leaning her head over his shoulder, "Mac..."

"You called Flack, but you didn't call me?"

She bit her lip at his question and sighed, "I had to keep an eye on you somehow, Mac."

"Why didn't you just call me?"

"I thought we'd discussed this. I was doing what I thought was best for us."

He wheeled around and looked at her. He loved her more than his own life but suddenly, for the first time, he realized that it might not be enough. This revelation shed a new light on her leaving him. She had lied to him and gone behind his back, just like she had on the Diakos case five years ago. That debacle had turned out well in the end, cementing their bond and making him face the realization of how much she meant to him and how much he would sacrifice for her. There was one difference now, though. Back then, it was professional. Back then, she had gone against him as her boss and supervisor. Now, she did the same to him as her _husband_. It made all the difference in the world. And it hurt so much more.

"By talking to DON?" he finally asked, his lips a thin line and anger etched into his eyes.

"By checking in on you. I knew there was no one better than Don to keep an eye on you while I was here. Misguided, yes, but I was concerned about you regardless of the fact that I thought our marriage was over." She reached for him and felt the invisible slap as he stepped back from her.

"Is there anything else I should know about? Who else have you stayed in contact with? Danny? Adam? Sinclair? The mayor?"

She sighed, knowing that when he got into his stubborn mode, just like now, there was no arguing with him. The infamous Mac Taylor thick head was letting itself known once again. Still, she had to try. She could be as stubborn as he if she only wanted.

"No, Mac," she enunciated. "I stayed in touch with Don and that only in order to..."

"To keep tabs," he cut her off, a vindictive note in his voice. "I get it. Well, while you were keeping tabs, I was sitting at home missing my WIFE, hoping my wife would CALL so that we could talk and figure out our problems. I was hoping she'd make contact with ME so that I could tell her how bad I felt and how much I wanted her home. Instead, she's calling my friend and keeping secrets from me."

"You didn't call me, either!" she finally exploded, knowing the instant she said the words, she had hurt him yet again.

"_You left_, Stella," he said through gritted teeth. He never wanted to go back to this again but there it was back with its poison, like Hydra's immortal head you could keep cutting off only to have two more grow back in its place. And just like the mythical monster, the pain he thought was gone returned with a vengeance to tear and claw at his heart. It hurt so much he had to remind himself to breathe. "The obvious conclusion was you wanted nothing to do with me. You'd said as much, remember?"

He saw the pain flash in her eyes but then the memory of her 'G_oodbye, Mac'_ she had left him with standing alone in their apartment six months ago floated to the forefront of his tormented mind. And with that memory came its companions, anguish and anger.

"Me coming here was a mistake," he said turning his eyes away from her. "Send my bags up to New York."

He turned on his heel and headed to the street, hailing a cab and climbing in. Her hand touched the window for a fleeting moment before the cab disappeared into the traffic.

Now she knew how he must have felt when she left. She thought leaving was bad. But it was so much worse when you were the one left behind, helplessly watching the person you love turn their back and leave. For the first time, she fully understood what she had put him through. His anger and hurt when he first came here became clear to her now. She was now in the same place. And God, it hurt.

"Damn it, Mac," she cursed reaching for her phone. She refused to be helpless. She wasn't going to let him slip away this easy. She wouldn't survive it. And neither would he, however thick-headed and in denial he chose to be now.

_XXXXXXXXXXXX _

"The next available flight I have to New York leaves in 30 minutes, is that going to work for you, sir?"

Mac glanced at the line at the security check-in and sighed. Was he really mad enough at her to do this? Leave her and their second chance behind? A mane of curls caught his eye and he smiled slightly, almost raising his hand to wave until the brunette turned around. His body slumped as blue connected with brown and he swallowed the lump in his throat. Maybe he'd delivered the final blow to their relationship, maybe this was the final irreparable trauma that would ruin their marriage for good.

"Sir?"

He reached for his wallet inside his jacket and froze as his fingers brushed the small metal object. He pulled his hand out, Stella's wedding ring resting in his palm. He sighed and let his fingers caress it, moving it over and over in them. He could remember putting it on her finger like it was yesterday.

_Was it possible to find two loves of your life? Could really one man be this lucky? Could _he_, of all people, be that man? He doubted anyone deserved so much happiness; why should he be exempt? Could he sustain so much happiness? Was this real? _

_All these and hundreds more questions shot through Mac's mind as he stood in the sacristy waiting for his cue to come to the altar. His brain was in such frantic overdrive that he had to remind himself to breathe once in a while. It seemed like the longest wait of his entire life. All the doubts and fears that had ever plagued him seemed bent on harassing him on this particular day, at this particular hour, with double the strength. They were like angry vultures circling his head and snapping their vicious beaks, looking for any sign of his weakness. _

_This was so different than his first wedding day. Twenty one years ago, he was a young sergeant back home from another round in the Middle East, and Claire was an adorable, innocent girl straight from college with big eyes and even bigger dreams. Their love was a spontaneous, vivacious force that made them feel like victims of a lightning strike. They were both so young and inexperienced. It was perfect. _They_ were perfect. But it was in another time, in another life. When he looked back to that young, reckless sergeant, he didn't recognize himself in him anymore. Too much had happened since then. A whole _lifetime_ had happened and it had irreversibly changed him._

_He had no doubts he would have spent his whole life with Claire had she lived but he would have been a different man himself, then, not the one he was now. A question that kept bugging him ever since he realized how much he loved Stella was if he would have chosen Claire being the man he was now. The changed, burdened man with his shards of a heart glued vicariously together and hanging only by the thread of Stella's love. The very question made him feel unfaithful and ungrateful at first, like he was sullying Claire's name, and it took him a long time to wrap his mind around it and work it out. But he had made his peace with Claire. He had spent years grieving her life that was ended so well before its time, grieving their lost love and the children they would never have. She would forever remain in his heart but now there was someone else there as well. _

"_Still, Claire, I do need your blessing for this," he whispered looking out the window onto the street. It was a beautiful, sunny day in the middle of May. It had been raining the whole week but on this day the sun came out. It seemed like even the elements were in favor of his union with Stella._

"_I love you and I always will but you're not here anymore. Stella is. She saved me in all possible meanings of the word when you died. She is my life now and I love her so much. You've always liked her and I know you'd be glad, it's just that I need to…," his voice finally let him down, and he put his flushed forehead to the cool glass._

_Silence surrounded him and he sighed. He shook his head at his own nervousness that was bringing all this upon him. Desperately needing some distraction, he began to re-adjust his perfectly adjusted cuffs and fix his immaculately tied tie. Suddenly he heard a muffled snort from the entrance and looked up to see his best-man standing in the door with his arms crossed over his chest._

"_I never thought I'd get to see this in my life," Don Flack said, his words laced with wry humour. "Mac Taylor fidgeting like a teenager."_

_Mac shot him a sideways look and let out a slightly strained chuckle. It didn't escape Don, though._

"_And another first. Mac Taylor nervous," he noted with a straight face. "If you're afraid Stella's going to bail, I can have Lindsay cuff her to the pew," he added with a mischievous grin. "Or you, for that matter," he added helpfully._

"_Lindsay has cuffs on her? Today?" Mac asked fighting hard not smile. _

"_Don't you?" Don asked playfully. "This is a cop wedding after all. We even thought of installing a metal detector at the entrance but we figured we'd end up detaining all the guests. Stella wouldn't have like this at all." _

_Mac shook his head and gave Flack a first genuine smile. He was his first choice for best man but if he'd ever had any doubts about this decision, they were gone now. Don just managed the impossible and actually made him forget how nervous he really was. He couldn't ask for more._

"_Speaking of Stella," Don continued. "If I don't get you to that altar in a minute, there will be blood today. Not only mine, might I add," he said meaningfully and moved away to make space for Mac in the door. "After you."_

_Mac took in a deep breath he hoped Don didn't notice and took one last glance behind him before he stepped out. There was a single, amber ray of light shining through the window he had been standing in that wasn't there before. It created a golden half-circle on the floor, the rest of the light being refracted by a chair standing in the light's way. It looked almost like a smile. Mac's mind told him it was simply a natural physical phenomenon of light refracting through a surface of varied density but his heart knew better._

Thank you, Claire_, he thought and went out._

_The pastor met them before they went out and led them both to the altar. A soft tune started in the background as they stood there waiting. Mac's whole mind and body was running out down that aisle, and he found his nervousness on the rise again._

"_You're afraid she's not gonna show, aren't you?" Don whispered into his ear from behind and Mac chuckled, feeling his nerves settling again. When Don put it down in words like that, his fears really did seem ridiculous. _

_Then the tune changed and the door on the other end opened. Lucy, clad in a light pink dress, was the first to emerge. She didn't seem to be in the least bit concerned by the fact that everyone's attention focused on her and she proceeded to happily bounce down the aisle, throwing copious amounts of white rose petals to the ground as she walked. The little basket she was holding was empty before she got half-way and the look of consternation on her face as she discovered that made the guests chuckle. She stopped, looked up at the altar and at Mac. _

"_Wook, Uncle Mac," she said and showed him the empty basket, looking for directions._

_Mac chuckled again and kneeled, opening his arms. Lucy beamed and ran the remainder of the aisle until she found herself in his arms. He hugged her tightly. Then he released her and let her stand between him and Don._

_Lindsay and Danny followed, Lindsay standing on Stella's side and Danny joining Mac and Don. Lucy quickly scooted over to her dad and he gathered her up in his arms._

_Then the tune changed again and Mac's attention was once again totally and completely focused on the aisle. One last note, one last breath…_

_And then she was there, walking proudly on Sid's arm. He caught her eye and he was positive she had never looked more beautiful. She was positively radiant and he couldn't stop his jaw from falling slightly as he marveled at the goddess who had descended from Mount Olympus to be his wife._

_He couldn't tear his eyes from her, and even when Sid gave her away, he didn't really notice or hear one word. She took his outstretched hand and he couldn't help himself and leaned in placing a kiss on her temple. Love for her flooding his heart with waves the strength of tsunamis, he didn't really think straight and all he could utter was that she looked beautiful though that didn't seem to reflect even a fraction of what a perfect vision she was to him. Her cheeks flushed, though, and he knew she was pleased with his words. _

_During the whole ceremony all he could really see were her sparkling eyes that glowed with a love so complete and profound he kept asking himself what he did to deserve it all. And then the words he had been waiting for sounded through the church with a gleeful finality:_

_"Ladies and gentlemen, Mr. and Mrs. McKenna Taylor." _

_As he took her into his arms and brought his lips to hers, there were no more doubts, fears or questions in his mind. There was only an overpowering feeling of love and certainty. She was the one._

"_I love you," she whispered into his ear._

He snapped back to reality with Stella's words ringing in his mind as if she'd just spoken them. The woman behind the counter was looking at him with a half-curious, half-frustrated expression. Clearing his throat, he turned back to her and had to take a moment to remember what she had said earlier.

"Sir, would you like me to book that seat for you?"

Mac looked at her.

Time seemed to freeze.

_tbc._

* * *

**Do you think Mac will get on that plane? What's Stella going to do about it? This and more in the next chapter.**

So, two more chapters to go…we really hope you liked this one:) It was longer than usual but there was lots of ground to cover...We hope you don't mind and feel free to comment! We love to hear your thoughts/opinions – they make us write faster;)

Have a great weekend!

_Babygurl&Stardust_


	9. If You Leave Me Now

**Happy Never After**

**Disclaimer: **Nope, still nothing. Null. Zip.

**A/N:** So, this is the penultimate chapter with only the epilogue left. It's pure and utter fluff 99,9% of the time – consider yourself warned;) We hope that this chappie makes up for all the angst we've put you through in this story.

To everyone who reviewed, faved and alerted, and to all you lurkers out there;) You all rock, guys!

* * *

**Chapter 9 – If You Leave Me Now...**

After making sure no one was within ear shot, Mac let his pen slip away from his fingers onto the file he was working on and allowed himself a deep sigh. His wrist hurt, his eyes were burning and his back was killing him. He had come to accept those things as necessary sacrifices of his job and barely noticed them anymore but this time they forced him to make a break. He had come to hate making breaks lately because then his mind instantly drifted where he didn't want it to. So when he came back from NOLA he made sure he had no time for breaks, resorting to what had always worked before – work in near-exhaustion doses. He had to hand it to the New York criminals, though, they made it quite easy for him. During his absence the files, reports and other red tape had literally grown into a Kilimanjaro on his desk. He groaned as his eyes settled on another heap of paper waiting in a box next to his desk. Usually this would be part where his wife dragged him out of the lab, using force if necessary. But right now his wife wasn't here.

He rubbed his eyes with his right hand and turned on his chair to look at Broadway at night, not really seeing anything of the illustrious view Manhattan had to offer at this time of night. The feeling of anxiety and uncertainty hadn't left him ever since he got onto that plane and the awareness of how much he had recklessly put on the line that day still made his hair stay on end.

_7 days earlier…_

Stella sighed and massaged her temples as her truck raced towards the airport with sirens and lights on. Brandon's track on Mac's cell leading her to the last place she wanted him. She wasn't going to lose him again. After everything they'd been through and all the work they'd put into fixing this, she wasn't going to give up so easily. She'd turned away from him, from their life together, because she wasn't happy; because they had fallen apart. Both of them had severed all lines of communication and they'd come unbelievably close to losing each other because of it, but they'd made it through. They had come around to the other side, a little rougher for the wear, but stronger than ever.

Her body practically flew from the vehicle as she parked in the valet area, flashing her badge rapidly and racing inside. Her feet moving faster than she ever imagined they could. She would not lose him again no matter the cost. Her eyes frantically searched as she ran and moved through the slight chaos surrounding her, the room almost feeling as if it was spinning and the voices infiltrating her mind in loud murmurs and parts of sentences. She made it to the security line and chased back and forth, looking for him in the line and finally dropped down into a seat with a soft sob as her final thread of hope slipped out of her grasp. He'd already gone.

She ran a hand through her hair and stood, turning to head into the women's restroom to splash cold water on her face and then gather thoughts, but her movements stopped as her target exited the men's room and caught her eyes. Both frozen in time as they stood there, broken and waiting for the other to make a move.

He swallowed as her green eyes dipped down his body, following the planes of his chest and legs before coming back to him and glistening as a tear tracked down her cheek. She licked her lips and shook her head disbelieving her eyes. It felt as if time was standing still around her. No one else present in the moment, only them, as she wiped her cheek, "Is it really you?"

His hands stuffed into his pockets as he watched her fight to get back into control of her emotions; he didn't realize he'd hurt her this badly, a second time. "Yes, it is."

She began to take a step forward, "You're not leaving?"

She watched as his head dropped and stopped with her progression towards him, rocking back to her original position and then backing away slightly. His silence sliced through her heart and she shook her head, "I see."

She nodded and ran a hand over her hair, "I came here to tell you that you're wrong. I couldn't call you. I couldn't bear the thought that you might've moved on without me, that I'd be a memory to you and that you wouldn't want me anymore. Don was the only way I could watch over you, protect you. Damn it, Mac, I came here to find you because when you realize that you love someone and want your life to be spent with them, you want to start that life as soon as possible."

His eyes lifted to hers as she took another step away, another move out of his mind's grasp, "But if you want to run away and throw away everything we've done here the last week, you do it. Do whatever you want, but I want you to remember that this time, you're the one making the mistake of running. You're the one who's choosing to end it."

She turned and began to walk away from him, her curls bouncing slightly before a hand caught her wrist and forced her around, blue eyes seeking out hers, "I've made the mistake of not coming after you once, Stella. I'm not going to do it again, no matter how brave you are."

She blinked away more tears and shook her head with a weak laugh as he ran a hand over her wild locks, "And I suppose you just expect me to go weak at the knees and fall into your arms and cry hysterically and say we'll figure this all out? You and I just picking up where we left off and…growing old together and…and…come on, Mac, what do you expect? To live happily ever after?" she asked with a hint of irony that turned into hope as she looked into his eyes.

He cupped her face with his hands and brought it inches of his. "Yes. To all of the above. Except you don't have to cry hysterically."

"Yes, I do," she said as his lips crushed hers and her arms wrapped around him tight, clinging to him for all that she was worth and letting his body fully encompass hers.

He pulled back when the need for oxygen became too great and pressed his forehead to hers, "We've come too far and been through too much for me to just let go and throw it all away. I love you too much to…"

Her mouth on his silenced him and he grinned as she pulled back and kissed the end of his nose, "I love you too, Mac. You're not getting rid of me that easily." She chuckled softly and ran her fingers over the back of his neck, "Are you leaving?"

"I tried to. I wanted to. I almost bought the ticket, but I couldn't leave you, not again, not like this." He shook his head. "I was trying to figure out a way to get back. Maybe fall down to my knees and beg you for forgiveness?"

"I remember the last time you went down to your knees for me," she smiled wryly. "It turned out pretty well as I recall. Maybe you should try it again," she said with a playful smirk.

Before she could stop him, that was what he did and she felt her breath hitch. She suddenly felt very self-conscious knowing people were starting to stop and stare at them. But lasted only for about a second before his intensely blue eyes didn't lock with hers and the rest of the world ceased to exist. Mac Taylor, the most private and non-fanfare man she knew was just kneeling in front of her at an airport full of people. He took her hands in his and gently squeezed them.

"You want it, you got it," he smirked looking at her flabbergasted expression but then he became serious.

"I see I have to watch what I say to you," she quipped.

He just shook his head and she watched him with growing interest as he started fishing for something in his shirt pocket.

He seemed to have found what he was looking for and his eyes turned back to her.

"You forgot something the last time," he said softly looking up at her.

"You?" she asked with a teary smile and he chuckled lightly, opening his hand.

"You can say so."

Sunlight caught on the band of gold in his fingers, rekindling the memory of the day she had promised him never ending love before God and the whole world. The happiest day of her life.

"Will you be my wife, Stella Taylor?" His gentle voice brought her back from the past. She was looking into those warm, blue eyes again, and they were shining with the same love as on that day.

"I've never stopped being her, Mac," she said, tears now running freely down her cheeks.

Mac stood up and kissed them all away, one after another, until there were no more tears in her eyes, only happiness. He slipped the band on her finger and gathered her in his arms. They both remained oblivious to the audience comprising passengers, clerks and personnel that had built up around them in the mean time and the cheers and clapping that met their reunion.

_The present day…_

That was a week ago. They had returned to Stella's apartment and spent a blissful weekend Mac doubted he'd ever forget. But then the reality kicked in. He had to go back to New York and Stella had lots on her plate considering the decision they had come to in the end. She didn't want to just up and leave and he understood she owed it to her team. She couldn't tell him exactly when she would be back to New York. That was when he started burying himself in files – everything to distract his restless mind from counting the minutes and hours and days – he could swear his watch was getting physically worn out from the number of times he looked at it each day. He respected her for not wanting to leave her people in the lurch, the devotion and passion were traits that made her into the wonderful woman he had fallen for and he wouldn't have it any other way, but it still meant he got to sleep alone another night, and another after that and probably more after that.

XXXXXXXXXXXXXX

"Missing him?"

Her celery colored eyes lifted from the photo of her and Mac to meet Brandon's smiling ones, "Nothing easy about being away from him."

He nodded and leaned against the doorframe, "Isn't it your night off? Why are you here?"

She paused and sighed glancing at the late hour on the clock before turning back to him with a light shrug, "Finishing up something."

"I see." He fidgeted for a moment as she turned and glanced back at the image of her and Mac on her desk, "You know, no one would fault you if you disappeared for a few days. I hear New York in the fall is beautiful..."

The chuckle that escaped her mouth matched her shaking head as she stood up at her desk, her fingers gathering the team assignments before she walked towards him, "He's not into surprises..."

"If it's you surprising him, I bet he would be." He smiled wider as she winked playfully at him and nudged him out of her office, "Get back to work."

He laughed softly and headed towards the computer lab. She couldn't stop herself from smiling as she watched him move away from her, appreciating what a sweet young kid he really was.

"Hey, Stell." Her head turned as Nate stepped up next to her, his strides matching hers as they headed down the hallway, "I have a favor."

Her eyebrow rose as she paused and smirked at him, "You know, last time I heard that from you..."

"Yeah, yeah, I was asking you out. This is different." She nodded and he took a deep breath, "I'm taking my new girl out this weekend and I... I don't really want to scare her away but I want to impress her."

"Ah... anyone I know?"

"Maybe."

She laughed softly and nodded, her arm wrapping around his shoulders as she guided him down the hallway, speaking low and conspiratorially with him, helping him figure out how to woo his date without going overboard. She stopped in the hallway and handed him the team assignments, "You think you can handle this?"

He chuckled and nodded, "Guess we'll find out."

The tilt of her head and slight smile were her only response as she watched him enter the layout room and share a knowing glance with Ashley and then trying to pass off the slight brush of his hand on hers. Stella's eyes brightened as she watched their interaction with a warm smile and slight wink at Ashley as they caught each other's eyes. Her thumb caressed the gold on her ring finger as she headed out to her vehicle.

She dropped her keys onto the counter in her kitchen as she glanced around the apartment. It felt so empty without him here with her; sharing her home, sharing her bed, her life. She sighed and headed into her bathroom for a hot shower. She stepped under the spray of hot water as the water helped soothe her and wash away the world around her.

_"I'm scared…"_

_Her hands trembled as she ran them over the smooth cream fabric and glanced in the mirror. Everything was exactly how she'd pictured it. The flowers, the place, the people around her… and yet she was terrified._

_"Stella, you're going to be fine. If Danny and I can do it in a court house, you can do it here."_

_"Lindsay, it's not that simple… I mean… God, what if, Peyton comes back or something happens… I… I…"_

_"STELLA. Calm down." Lindsay gripped her gently by the shoulders and gave her a gentle shake. "It's all going to be fine. No one in the world belongs together more than you and Mac."_

_Stella sighed and hugged her tight, "How'd you get to be so wise, kiddo?"_

_"I learned from you." Lindsay smiled and gave her another gentle squeeze as the door creaked open and Danny poked his head in, "'ey, you two ready or what? We got a few people out 'ere waitin' for ya."_

_Stella gave a nod and nudged Lindsay to go, winking at the 3 year old Lucy as she toddled out of the room in her light blue dress._

_She turned back to the mirror and took a deep breath. Her eyes traced over the simple cream dress with a sweetheart neckline that she'd chosen. It wasn't flashy or ornate or anything that would make a statement, but it was classic and elegant. Her hair was pulled back just off her face, while still letting her signature curls dance across her shoulders and back. She did a final check of her makeup and grabbed the small bouquet of white roses before heading out the door and heading down to the designated area._

_Her eyes caught his as she walked down the aisle in the church with the small assembly watching her every move. She winked at him with a bright smile as she neared the altar and took his hand. His eyes traced her form slowly before he leaned down and kissed her temple, then spoke in a hushed tone, "You look beautiful."_

_She dropped her head as her cheeks turned a shade of pink as she gave his hand a gentle squeeze as a thank you. As the priest addressed their team and a few close friends sitting in the pews, welcoming them and beginning the ceremony, she leaned over to him and whispered softly, "Do you know how much I love you in a tux?"_

_She pulled back seeing his smile and chuckled softly, their fingers interlocked as the ceremony progressed and by the time they turned to each other to recite their vows, all her nerves had disappeared and she knew she was making the right choice. He had always been the one, the ONLY one for her. She stared into his eyes as she repeated each word the pastor said and blinked away tears as he did the same back to her._

_"Ladies and gentlemen, Mr. and Mrs. MacKenna Taylor."_

_She grinned as he leaned in and pressed his lips to hers, wrapping his arms around and pulled her flush against him as their guests clapped._

_"I love you," he whispered after pulling back and holding her tight to him still. She smiled against his neck and pressed a gentle kiss there, knowing that no matter what their future brought, his arms were the only place she'd ever belong._

She emerged from the steam filled booth and slid into the soft cotton of her pajamas, before getting into her large, empty bed. Hours past as she laid there, tossing and turning and trying to get back to bed. She barely realized she was spinning the rings on her ring finger over and over as she gazed at her ceiling thinking about the man she missed terribly. So much had happened since Mac had left, so many choices had been made on both their ends and it felt like it'd been an eternity since she'd seen him. She turned on her side and stared at the empty space next to her, almost willing her husband to appear before she huffed and turned back onto her back. She debated for another moment before grabbing her phone and dialing.

XXXXXXXXXXXXXX

The next morning in New York offered one of those chilly yet so beautiful experiences that they seemed like cut out of a postcard.

Mac would have appreciated the yellow and red hues of the magnificent trees lining Central Park walkways and the almost ridiculously cheerful blue of the skies above had it not been for the reason he was in the green jungle in the middle of the concrete jungle. He was on call, which meant his first order of the day was a dead body.

He made his way to the place indicated by Flack and frowned not seeing anything even suggesting a crime scene. He checked with the GPS on his phone and was about to dial Don when a voice from behind stopped him.

"Looking for something, handsome?"

He slowly turned around, his heart beating rapidly against his ribcage. Stella was standing a feet away, giving him her megawatt, self-satisfied smile. She looked beautiful. Gentle rays of autumn sun brought out the green sparks in her eyes and softly sculpted her features into an image of pure perfection. They stood like there for a moment, eyes locked and hearts beating to the same rhythm before Mac got his voice back.

"Don? The scene?" he asked though he already knew the answer.

She chuckled. "Let's just say I owe him," she said coming closer to him.

He raised an eyebrow at her, "I'll really have to start keeping an eye on him."

She chuckled and he made a step in her direction. They were standing at arm's length and he could see that underneath the smile there was anxiety. "Are you back, Stell?" he whispered. He had to make sure, he had to hear her say the words.

She put a hand to his cheek. When she did that, a stray sunray reflected off the band of gold she was wearing on her finger. The warmth in his eyes as he saw it only grew when she said simply, "It's high time I came back home. To you."

Mac took her hand from his cheek and brought it to his lips, brushing her ring finger in a butterfly of a kiss.

She cupped his face with her hands. "You're the love of my life, Mac. It took me some time to figure it out and I'm so sorry. But now I'm here and I'm yours forever, Mac, heart, body and soul. I love you."

"I love you, too. So much that I was going mad with you not here, Stell," he confessed, his voice unusually thick.

"I thought Marines never got sick, let alone _heart-sick_," she quipped though her voice was trembling.

"I'm discharged," he breathed taking her into his arms and crushing his lips against hers.

She moaned softly into the kiss, her arms wrapping around him holding him tight to her, reacquainting herself with the feel of him against her before pulling back a bit and resting her forehead to his. Their breaths mingled as they fought to regain normal breathing abilities and a soft murmur sounded from him, "What about your team?"

"New leader started today. Not bad, little cocky perhaps, but his new girlfriend will keep him in line."

"You didn't..."

"Well, he did learn from both of us."

Seeing his skeptically arched eyebrow, she chuckled and caressed his back, "I couldn't stay away. It was time."

She wrapped her hands around his and smiled, "Now, you have a choice..."

His eyes narrowed a bit as he squeezed her hands and nodded for her to continue, curiosity getting the better of him. "Go to the lab...or take a day off and help me move back in."

He took a moment to revel in the hopeful lilt and emotion her voice held. It was real. She was really here standing with him, wanting to be with him, loving him again. Looking back at the tortuous path life had led them onto, he realized he had no regrets. He wouldn't change a thing. If this was the final outcome, how could he ever complain? Finding a love lost compared to nothing he had ever experienced in life. It was like he had gotten a second chance at life. And he wasn't going to waste it.

Stella was still waiting for his answer, uncertainty starting to creep onto her sun-kissed face.

He chuckled at her confused expression and kissed the tip of her nose, "They'll survive a day without me."

_tbc._

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**A/N:** So, how was the wedding flashback from Stella's POV? We hope you liked this and it made up for all the twists and turns…still, we're not finished with that, sorry, some more to come in the epilogue;) No angst this time, though, we promise! We hope you'll stay tuned and give us your thoughts about this chappie!

**A/N2:** If you've found a couple of lines familiar somewhere in this chapter…then you're good! Extra brownie points for anyone who finds the exact lines;) Let me give you a hint – they come from the movie 'Parent Trap'. They seemed to fit our Smacked perfectly, and this is our small tribute to the late and sorely missed Natasha Richardson, and the ever cute Dennis Quaid.

Have a great weekend!

_Babygurl&Stardust_


	10. Epilogue – Worth The Wait

**Happily Never After**

**Disclaimer: **We own nothing. Nada. Null. Though we wish we did;)

**To everyone who read and reviewed, faved and alerted – thank you so much! This has been a completely new experience for both of us and we were anxious about it to say the least – but your encouragement and support kept us going and really made our day! YOU ROCK, GUYS!**

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**Epilogue ****– Worth The Wait**

"STELLA!"

She whirred her head in the direction of the voice, curls flying and hitting her in the face. Under any other circumstances she would have appreciated the concern underlying the tone but right now it was accompanied by fear verging on panic. Rarely did one hear these particular emotions from the voice's owner. Right now, unfortunately, they were justified and Stella felt her heart freeze into an icicle inside her chest realizing the gravity of her current situation.

The next moment all internal considerations were turned to oblivion as she had to duck lower behind the car she was crouching to take cover from another barrage of shotgun coming from the other side of the street.

Mac's voice managed to penetrate the din yet again. "Stell, lay low!"

He was more than fifty feet away, having arrived from the opposite direction. They were the first on the scene, with Flack and the SWAT on the way. They had been hoping to take their suspect in crossfire and hold out till backup arrived and it almost worked. _Almost_ being the key word here.

They hadn't foreseen they would get engaged in a full-blown street battle, just the two of them with only their Glocks, which seemed like children's toys compared to their suspect's arsenal. They had been trapped long feet away from each other, their every attempt at fighting back or joining forces literally shot down by the perp. Stella couldn't recall a predicament as dramatic and at the same time as farcical as this one. They had gotten into numerous messes during their years on the job but this was easily top five. Still, she knew they would have done the same thing again. This was their only chance to get the perp. There was not a moment's hesitation when Mac looked at her questioningly having heard the dispatcher's announcement. And now here they were, fighting yet another battle. This time it was literal, though, and Stella found she liked the metaphorical ones far better. Which didn't mean she wasn't as good at winning them. She carefully peered from behind the car to check up on the perp's location.

She knew Mac was right about staying down. Her cover wasn't going to last long and if she didn't do something fast, she would soon look like a cheddar cheese. The perp seemed to have focused on her since she was the closest to him but if she played this right, she could turn this into an advantage… She took one glance at Mac's silhouette, barely visible behind another car at the other end of the street. She took a deep breath and made her decision.

"I'm going to move in closer, Mac!" she spoke to her walkie-talkie. "I need you to cover me."

She shifted onto the balls of her feet prepping to dart for the better location.

"No, Stella," Mac's voice was calm but she detected that undercurrent of panic growing stronger. "Wait. Flack and his guys are on their way."

"Mac, he's not going to wait forever," she persuaded. "We need to make a move now."

She rose up a little higher, aiming over the hood of the car and caught the suspect's movements as he turned and began running down the street towards an alley, his gun grasped close to his side as he moved, his head turning back to make sure no one followed him.

"I'm going after him, Mac!" she screamed into her walkie-talkie.

"No! Wait for back up!"

"I don't have time to put this to a vote, Mac! It's now or never!"

"Damn it, Stella! This is an order!"

She muted out Mac's last words, already in pursuit.

Mac cursed under his breath again seeing her take off. His feet carried his body after her, rapidly trying to catch up to her but knowing that he was too far and for the next couple of minutes she was completely on her own. The thought was enough to make his heart stop in his chest and he forced his legs to move even faster.

Just as he was about to enter the alley, the white-and-blues began wheeling in with a screech.

"Mac!" Flack's figure emerged from his squad car and raced to catch up, his gun out of his holster and ready for fire.

"Suspect's moving."

"Where's Stella?" came Sheldon's voice from behind Don as both he and Danny joined them.

"Where do you think?"

_XXXXXXXXXXXXX_

Stella jumped out of the way of the man's fist but her backward impetus made her back contact painfully with the wall behind. It was enough to knock her breath out of her and her Glock out of her hand. It was also enough for the man to raise his fist again. This time he was successful. She doubled over, seeing black blurs in front of her eyes but she willed them away. She moved to the side and aimed a fist into his solar plexus. It slightly missed the target but it was enough to throw the man out of balance. She swiftly moved behind his back and was about to administer a finishing blow but he managed to sneak in an elbow into her abdomen, which had her gasping for air and loosening her hold on him.

She gritted her teeth and let out an angry growl. No way was he getting away. She had spent too much time chasing him down only to allow him to escape now and carry on with his killing spree. She tapped into energy reserves she didn't think she had anymore and whirred around, her foot making satisfactory contact with the underside of the man's knee and making him fall onto his face with a startled gasp. He tried to scramble back to his feet but she was already pressing on his back with both her knees.

"One more move," she hissed and shoved her right knee harder in between his shoulder blades. He groaned but seemed to finally understand it was over.

She was just finishing handcuffing when Mac skidded to a halt in front of her, followed by Flack, Danny, Hawkes and a number of SWAT officers. She felt a small triumphant grin grow on her lips as she saw the amazed faces of all the macho guys watching one woman tackle their bear of a suspect. She got to her feet just in time to find herself face to face with her furious boss.

With a grim expression, Mac scrutinized her face, already turning purplish where their suspect managed to land a couple of blows. She was sure she was in for a tongue-lashing, and in front of the whole squad no less, when she suddenly found herself gathered in his strong embrace, Mac obviously not caring there were at least a dozen of curious spectators around, and they were all on the job. Her heart warming at the thought of how long a road they had to come to get here, she sighed, allowing her muscles to finally relax and the adrenalin to subside in her veins.

Mac held her tightly, his face hidden in her curls. He was slowly starting to calm down, having worked up a rage that could crumble walls at the very thought that the perp could hurt her and he wasn't there to protect her. Memories from New Orleans came flooding back but he pushed them away. She was safe and sound in his arms.

"I should make you sleep on the couch for this," he said softly into her hair.

She moved her head back to look him in the eye. "And that would that be a punishment for me or for you?" she asked pointedly, mischief in her eyes. "You might wanna rethink your marital penal code, Taylor."

"You're pushing it, _Taylor_," he whispered before pulling away. His stern expression might have carried more clout, though, if he could refrain himself from affectionately tucking a stray curl behind her ear. He couldn't, though, and what it revealed was another purplish bruise. He frowned, all playfulness gone.

"Sheldon, call the paramedics," he ordered the younger CSI.

"Mac, I'm fine." She waved a hand at him.

"We'll have to work on your definition of 'fine', Stella," he said wryly.

"My definition of 'fine' is no different than yours," she shot back.

Mac chuckled and was about to offer her a quip when his heart stopped in his chest. In a second, Stella had gone pale and in the next, he saw her body falter and slide to the ground. He managed to reach his hand out in time to shield her head from hitting the concrete.

"Sheldon! Now!"

_XXXXXXXXXXXXX_

Her fingers wrapped around the plastic bracelet as she fidgeted with it. It wasn't normal for something so minor as a few bumps and scratches to take this long. The bracelet twirled around her wrists over and over again before she tightened her grip on it and tried breaking it off her wrist, sighing and dropping back into the pillows in a frustrated huff. Hospitals weren't her thing and she was sick of being in one. She'd seen the inside of a hospital room one too many times the past few months for her own liking and this time was no exception. A part of her wasn't even sure why she was here. None of the injuries she'd sustained were severe enough to make the visit a necessity and she was almost positive that fainting spell had been because she'd skipped lunch. Doctor Stanwick came to stand before Stella with a stern expression on her face.

"Doing acrobatics again?" she said turning on her flashlight and examining Stella for proper eye reflexes. Then she looked over the bruises and cuts on her face. "Well, you've got a mild concussion and this here-" she gently touched the edges of the still slightly bleeding wound. "-will need stitches."

"That's not bad," Stella muttered as the doctor sat on a stool opposite her and prepared the sewing kit. Upon hearing Stella's comment, she looked up at her.

"Not bad?" she asked with a hint of anger. "Stella, you've been in a coma and had a surgery in the last three months. You should really take care of yourself. Do I really need to remind you that you should be taking it easy and getting back to full health instead of running through the city with a gun playing cops and robbers?"

Stella looked at her, surprised at the harshness of Stanwick's words. The doctor immediately picked up on it.

"I'm sorry," she smiled apologetically. "But I'm your doctor and your health comes first for me. And if your husband can't, I have to try and put some reason into your head."

"Mac? Reason?" Stella scoffed.

"Fair enough," she chuckled. "He's even worse than you are," she added. Then she became serious again.

"But maybe what I'm going to tell you will make you see some reason."

Stella looked at her and the doctor took a deep breath. "Your blood tests came back," she began. "And they showed some...for the lack of a better word, unexpected results."

Stella held her breath, the memories of her AIDS ordeal coming back to the surface. "Is...is something wrong with me? "

"You can say so," Stanwick began slowly. "Your body isn't functioning normally..."

Stella held her breath.

"...and it won't be for the next nine months." The doctor smiled at her.

Stella just stared at her, unable to utter a single word. "I'm...pregnant?"

"Yes, fourth week," the doctor informed her.

Stella continued to stare at her, a rush of unexpected emotions and feelings sweeping over her in a giant wave. She was pregnant...she was going to have a baby...Mac's baby...

"Stella? Are you ok?"

"I...um...just surprised, I guess." She managed a small smile. "I mean, we've talked about it with Mac and..." she looked at the doctor. "I love him so much and it was my dream to have child with him...it's just that...it's so unexpected."

"Best things in life always are."

Stella looked at her as she smiled at her serenely and went on to prepare the sewing kit. Her hands instinctively went to her abdomen and she felt a feeling of warmth and love spread through her fingers to her whole body. She smiled to herself. Still, there was an anxious pang in her heart as her mind started to process the life-changing news. She would be lying if she said that Mac wasn't going to be happy – he was going to be ecstatic about it, she had no doubts, but she had to wrap her mind about it herself first. She had gone through an awful lot this year, they both had, both professionally as well as physically and mentally. Hence, they decided they would take time to settle back into their life and job together before making any big decisions because they wanted to make everything right this time. Meanwhile, she was not three weeks back (she had to grin at herself realizing the timing – however they would look back at her leaving and the New Orleans debacle in the future, there would always be one good thing that came out of it) before they were faced with another earthquake.

_XXXXXXXXXXXXX_

"You keep pacing like that and you'll wear a rut into the carpet."

Mac's head lifted from watching his feet pace and he smiled at her before briskly heading to her and wrapping her in his arms. His hand held the back of her head gently as he rubbed her back and shut his eyes, inhaling her cent and letting the worry he'd been holding onto dissipate.

"Are you ok?"

"I'm fine, Mac… a couple bruises and…" she sighed and licked her lips before shrugging and rolling her eyes with a nod, "I'm fine."

He nodded and brushed a kiss to her forehead gently before wrapping his arm around her and pulling her close as they walked to their car. "Are we still on for tonight?"

Her brows furrowed and she paused midstep, turning to him and cocking her head in a silent question before the proverbial light bulb went off. "The wine tasting. I… I completely forgot."

He stepped up closer to her and tilted her head up, "You sure you're ok? You never forget things like this."

She dropped her eyes with a soft laugh and then looked back up to him, touching his cheek gently and caressing his cheekbone with her thumb, "I'm human, Mac. Even I forget our date nights sometimes." Then her expression changed and she pouted, raising an eyebrow at him. She had her perfect diversion from Mac's further question about her health and she was going to use it. "You think you'll weasel out of it this easy?"

He sighed in exasperation. If she was back to teasing him, he needed no better proof that she was indeed fine. "If I knew all it took to get out of it was a bump on the head, I'd have given myself one," he said under his breath.

"This can be arranged," she retorted and raised an eyebrow at him as he chuckled softly, "Besides, now we're even."

"Even?"

"A week ago? I waited at the diner for 15 minutes… and you were in your office doing budget reports?"

The pink tinge to his cheeks and awkward laugh assured her that he hadn't forgotten the call he'd gotten from her… nor the argument that followed… nor the way they'd made up later that night. She smiled warmly and leaned up kissing him gently and then putting her hands in his, "I really can't wait for tonight."

"Me either." He returned her warm smile and lead her to the street, hailing a cab with his free hand and clasping her hand securely in his other one.

_XXXXXXXXXXXXX_

They said it was women who had intuition but when it came to his wife, Mac had it, too. Or what was the male equivalent. Maybe it was simply the fact that he was so attuned to her that he could detect even the slightest change in her demeanour. The tiniest crease on the forehead, the smallest twitch of her mouth, the briefest shrug spoke volumes to him. Stella was as breath-takingly beautiful and intricately complex as a Beethoven's symphony and she wasn't easy to interpret or read but in the years they had known and loved each other, he had become the maestro.

Which was why he knew something was wrong the moment she stepped out of that ER room. She was distracted and avoided eye contact but he decided to let it drop for the moment hoping Stella would tell him what was going on in her own time. But evening came and she remained eerily quiet.

He listened to the ear-splitting silence as he frowned into the mirror and exited the bathroom, making his tie for the wine-tasting as he went. He found Stella ensconced in the bay window in their dining room she loved so much, her knees under her chin and her emerald dress flowing down the ledge in a magnificent waterfall of satin. He felt his frown deepen as he watched her. There was something on her mind and it was serious.

Hearing his footsteps, she turned around. "Ready?" she asked with a smile he knew was only for his sake. She stood up and smoothed her dress.

"You look beautiful," he uttered as she came up to him and proceeded to help him with his tie. Their fingers met and Mac held them tightly for a moment, reveling in the electric sparks the contact generated under his skin. "I'll never stop wondering why you chose me."

"Maybe because you're the greatest guy I've ever met?" she said with a small smile. "Or maybe not and I'm just a masochist," she added wryly and placed a soft kiss on his lips.

He chuckled. "Whatever your motives, I'm happy with my end of the deal."

"You'd better be. And now stop distracting me and let me finish with that tie or we're going to be late."

"I didn't know you distracted this easy." He raised an eyebrow at her and she just shook her head though the blush that crept up her face didn't escape him.

Then he watched as her expression became that of pure focus as she perfected the knot. Then she was done and soon they were out the door and in the cab.

The cool glass of the cab window soothed the throbbing from the bump on her head as the drive progressed. The bruises and cuts on her face she managed to cover with make-up and her hair but the bump was another thing. She begrudgingly focused on the rhythmic throbbing reflecting her own heartbeat and mused about another heartbeat that she would soon be able to hear in her body. Sitting alone when Mac was getting ready in the bathroom, she decided she would tell him tonight. This was wonderful news and she couldn't keep it away from him. They would make this work.

Still, she stayed silent most of the ride, quietly stewing over how best to tell him that they were soon going to have another presence in their home. She opened her eyes as he squeezed her hand gently. She turned to him with inquisitive eyes and smiled tenderly.

"You ok?"

She nodded slowly and squeezed his hand in return, "Just a little shaken up."

"You know, we don't have to go. If you're not feeling up to it." He captured her cheek against his palm and studied her face with concern etched into his blue orbs.

"I know your idea of alcohol is yellow and reeks of hop but you are not getting out of this," she said and laughed as he rolled his eyes. Then she became serious again and sighed. "I want to go I just… Um…I just doubt I'll be doing much tasting tonight," she said uneasily avoiding his gaze by averting her eyes to the floor of the cab.

"You're not feeling well?" He scooted closer, gently encircling her arm with his fingers. "I knew I should have pressed Stanwick to take you in for observation for the night."

"No, it's not that. I just…can't drink wine."

He frowned. "Why? You love wine and were really happy about this."

She took a deep breath. _Just tell him already!_

"I still do…but for the next eight months I'll have to do without it."

His brows furrowed and he studied her face before his eyes widened in realization. His sight dipped to her abdomen and then back to her eyes. She smiled hesitantly and nodded once, her smile growing immediately as his hand moved from her arm to her abdomen. "How far?"

"Four weeks."

The feeling of joy that overpowered him at that moment was so profound that he had to remind himself to breathe. He shook his head and leaned in, crushing her lips to his and showing her how enthusiastic he was over the news. She reciprocated the kiss with equal fire but Mac suddenly pulled back.

"And the fainting? Is everything ok?" he asked with worry.

She put a hand to his cheek. "Everything's fine. The little Taylor was just reminding me to take it easy."

"Now you'll have the big Taylor breathing down your neck, too," he said.

She beamed at him. "Wouldn't want it any other way."

**THE END**

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So, this is it, guys. Thank you so much for embarking on this journey with us – we hope you had as much fun reading this as we had writing it! Before you go, do leave us a final review:)

One more thing – what if we told you we're thinking of a sequel? Would you be interested?

Have a great Halloween, everyone!

_Babygurl&Stardust_


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